


Touch

by Thorinsmut



Series: Touch [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Complete, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dis becomes King, Dysfunctional Family, Explicit Consent, Gold Sickness, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Interrogation, M/M, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Slow Build, Smut, Torture, Touch-Starved, Whump, but the ending is happy, the BOFA is bad, will kick you in the feel-bads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 74,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Dwalin is a killer, the most feared guard in the refugee settlement of New Belegost.<br/>Nori was taken from his family and raised to be a thief. He is rarely caught.<br/>Torture is the standard criminal interrogation technique.<br/>Only Dwalin knows how to make Nori talk, and it isn’t violence. </p><p>When they both join Thorin's quest they find out more about themselves, about each other, and might just find what they need most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it always ends this way

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to come-chaos, greenekangaroo, zomborgs, and really-saraleee for help with the summary. Even if I didn't use your ideas, you really helped me get out of my funk.

.

They didn't catch him often, but whenever they did it always ended like this.

Dwalin stepped into the cell, silently gesturing the interrogators to stop, and they stepped back.

He never stopped fighting, this thief, no matter how badly he hurt. The Dwarf's bloodshot eyes rolled wild in his head, reddened spit flying from his lips as he swore fiercely and creatively, lunging against the chains that bound him to the wall. His long red-brown hair was plastered to his head, dark with blood and sweat.

Dwalin gestured the interrogators to leave, gestured in the two young guards he'd grabbed to assist him. The interrogators smirked at the thief, telling him he'd be _wishing_ he'd played nice, and left. The young guards set up the small brazier of glowing coals, the pot of water boiling atop it, the bucket of icewater, assorted little knives and needles and tools and bandages.

Dwalin ordered them to keep watch at the top of the stairs, too far away to hear any screams, and they left with twin horrified and terrified looks on their faces.

He finally turned his attention to the thief, who had not stopped swearing, and moreover hadn't repeated himself. It was fairly impressive. Anatomically improbable, but impressive nonetheless.

“We both know you're going to talk.” he said, “Why do you fight it so hard?” and the thief laughed hoarsely, blood in his teeth.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” he sneered, and Dwalin stepped forward to begin.

It _always_ ended like this when they caught this particular thief.

.

He was just a kid the first time they caught him, a scrawny thing with more bones than muscles and too much red hair.

His cursing wasn't as fluent as it would someday become, but he already fought like a wild thing. He used blind anger as a shield against the pain, and they could not break through it.

The interrogators had gotten frustrated with him and sent Dwalin in – brand-new-guard Dwalin with his big killer's hands and all the unhinged rage of the survivors of Azanulbizar.

“See if you can pound some sense into him.” they'd said, “Don't worry none about being gentle, no one'll miss this one if he dies.” and they'd left him alone to do what he was best at – brute violence.

It wasn't the first time they'd asked him to help them. It _was_ the first time it had been a kid, nevermind that this kid had stolen Lady Tofa's emerald necklace, a relic of Erebor.

“What's it going to take to break you?” Dwalin had asked the wildly struggling kid, placing a hand on the side of his head, just enough pressure to imply he could smash it like a grape without hurting him.

The little thief had gasped once, twice, and then burst into tears. He turned his face into Dwalin's rough mitt of a hand, nuzzling into it as he sobbed as if it's very size and proximity weren't a threat, as if it weren't a killer's tool.

As if there was more to Dwalin than just the violence he could inflict.

“Tell me where the emerald necklace is.” Dwalin said, and as long as he was touching the thief, he talked.

.

“Tell me where the jade pin is.” Dwalin said, blending boiling and ice water together, dipping a cloth into it. He started on the thief's forehead, gently cleaning the blood away with the warm water. His spare hand cradled the back of the thief's neck.

The corners of the thief's mouth turned down, his eyes squeezing shut tight even as he pushed into Dwalin's touch, shuddering, heedless of his cuts and bruises.

When the thief didn't answer, Dwalin stepped back, releasing him. The thief whimpered involuntarily, straining against his chains toward Dwalin.

The thief knew how to manage pain, but against tenderness he had no defenses.

Dwalin took his time rinsing the cloth out. He returned, holding it just out of the thief's range.

“Are you going to tell me about the jade pin?” he asked, and after a moment of agonized indecision the thief slumped, nodding.

They both knew this dance, as infrequent as it was. Dwalin slowly cleaned the thief from head to foot, bandaging the worst of his wounds and treating them with Oin's healing salve while the thief talked. Dwalin had long ago given up agonizing over how much he enjoyed these times, when his killer's hands were gentle things that soothed and healed and the thief pressed into his every touch. It was simply the only way to make the thief talk, nothing more. Occasionally he gave the thief sips of cool water when his throat grew dry, and the thief told him everything. There were some things the thief would not say – he never gave his name or that of his family – but Dwalin learned exactly _how_ he'd gotten the jade pin, in detail.

He'd not realized there was such a hole in the security of the royal treasure chamber, as small and poor as it was, they guarded what was left of their heritage fiercely.

“Where is the pin now?” Dwalin asked, and the thief shook his head.

“Don't know. Sold it to some traveling trader.”

Dwalin cursed softly, painfully tame compared to the thief's vocabulary of invectives. The thief almost _never_ informed on others, unless they'd betrayed him.

“What will it take to get you to remember more about this trader?” he asked, rubbing his thumb gently along the thief's collarbone. The thief looked up at him, his hazel eyes strange and bright against the dark blood bruises dyeing the whites.

“A kiss.” he said, and he was not sneering, was not laughing, but neither was he begging. He was simply naming his price.

He'd never done that before.

Dwalin should never have considered it – putting himself in a position to lose a piece of his lip (or tongue) if the thief were untrustworthy, and of _course_ he was untrustworthy, he was a _thief_.

He should have haggled the thief down – he would likely have settled for a kiss to the forehead or the tender inside of his wrist.

He should have kept it to a quick peck.

The thief's mouth tasted like the iron-sweetness of blood. Dwalin let the thief set the pace, and it was a soft thing, the slow slide of tongues and gentle press of lips. It was pleasant enough for all there was no heat in it.

Dwalin rested his forehead against the thief's for a moment after the kiss, stroking his hands down his ribcage. The thief made a soft, contented sound.

“The trader?” Dwalin asked quietly, pulling back slightly.

“A Man, he dressed like a Haradrim but I'd guess Rohan by his blue eyes and his accent. He rode a tall black horse, it looked Rohan too. He was set up on the southern edges of the Laborer's Market. He asked for the Jade Pin, specifically. He'll be long gone by now.”

Dwalin didn't let himself swear again, slowly petting the lean muscles of the thief's arms, feeling the thief's shudder as he pressed into Dwalin's hand despite how it must make his bruises ache.

“Do you know anything else?” He asked, and the thief considered for a long moment before shaking his head.

Dwalin stepped back and rearranged the tools and knives, as though he'd been using them. He arranged the cloth he'd cleaned the thief with to look as though it had gotten bloody cleaning the tools.

No one would question the bandages on the thief. Dwalin was known for always cleaning up after himself.

Not that he ever interrogated anyone but this particular thief, these days.

“Until next time.” he said.

“Fuck you with a rusty mace.” the thief snarled, their strange truce over now, and Dwalin left to go use the information he'd gotten.

It always ended this way when they caught this particular thief.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with art!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/56887956620/the-whump-is-happening-i-am-having-conflicting
> 
> And art of the first meeting too! I am the most spoiled fic author ever.  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/78253697495/it-always-ends-this-way-dwalin-and-noris-first


	2. the endless cycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori ponders Dwalin and his life.

.

The money Nori had left with the right people made sure that bribes got put into the right hands and he was eventually set free instead of being locked away, or executed, or having a hand amputated. Of course, that meant he owed people now, and that meant he had to pay them back as well as replenishing what he'd left with them, and that meant more stealing – flirting with the chance of being caught and given back to the tender mercies of the interrogators because it was the only way he had of making money.

The endless cycle of the life of the thief. Steal because you owe, caught because you steal, owe because you were caught.

Nori perched hidden in the shadows of the corner of a roof, watching his next mark. His fingertips absently rubbed down his arm, feeling the ache of the last of the injuries Dwalin had bandaged for him.

Everyone breaks.

There's no shame in it – he'd heard it over and over ever since Thjofr took him – everyone breaks, you just have to learn to hold back as much as you can, for as long as you can, to give those you are forced to betray a chance to hear that you've been taken in and run.

Everyone had their own method for dealing with it, for eking out as many hours and minutes as possible. Nori's method was rage and cursing.

The most important thing, they said over and over, was to _never_ trust anyone with more than the absolute minimum you could – because everyone breaks.

Mahal built Dwarves strong to endure hardship, but everyone breaks once the interrogators get to them.

People wanted to work with Nori because he had a reputation for not breaking until they sent Dwalin in, and that never happened fast. Nori always bought everyone plenty of time to run, whether he liked them or not.

No one knew that Nori wouldn't break until they sent Dwalin in, no matter how much he wanted to, because if he broke they _wouldn't_ send Dwalin in.

Dwalin had a reputation too, would rather punch you than look at you, likely to accidentally break your bones or do fatal damage and feel no remorse for it, wouldn't know kindness if it brained him with a warhammer. Dwalin, mindless attack-dog of the the King and the guard, huge and strong and feared by all.

No one ever touched Nori the way Dwalin did.

Nori crept over the spine of the roof to keep his mark in sight and settled into a new shadow. His thumb was slowly rubbing against his collarbone. If anyone knew that Nori broke from kindness instead of pain his reputation would never recover, but he didn't worry about that. Dwalin would never say. His reputation would suffer too if anyone knew he'd never hurt Nori, instead touched him like a...

...like a what?

 _No one_ touched like that. More tender than the brisk touches of healers, and with none of the heated impatience of a lover. He was confident and warm and gentle and strong. If Nori was going to break, and _everyone_ breaks, he would rather give his knowledge for _that,_ for what no one else gave him, than for pain.

Dwalin even kissed differently than anyone else. The kiss had been a mistake, probably, but Nori refused to regret it... he'd been _curious_ , is all. Nori's fingertips were rubbing at the back of his neck now, where Dwalin's fingers had rested so gently as they kissed. There had been nothing sexual in it, just closeness so pure Nori wanted to crawl into it and hide.

It was not something he should ever do again, because for a second kiss he might have confessed his name and any other secrets the guard might want to know.

The mark finally went for his real purse, not the decoy on his belt, and Nori marked it's placement under his arm, fingering his razor blade with a small hidden smile.

...be easy enough to slit his jacket open and slide it out in the bustle. If he were especially lucky the Nob would have enough on him for Nori to get those he owed off his back.

He climbed down off the roofs unseen and made his way into the crowds.

Maybe if the mark had enough money on him, Nori could try and give some to his mother's other sons. If he could get past Dori, sweet little Ori seemed to like Nori for some reason – or at least he had the last time Nori managed to visit.

Thjofr had let Nori visit his mother twice a year, and he'd continued the practice after Thjofr disappeared. Dori had put an end to that when their mother died – he'd always hated Nori's sire, and, by extension, Nori after Thjofr took him.

Dori had threatened to both kill Nori and give him over to the guard the last time he'd caught him visiting Ori. He'd hit Nori hard enough that he'd finally believed it. Cracked ribs could be extremely convincing.

It had been a long time since Nori had been brave enough to do anything more than observe his mother's other sons from a distance.

If the mark were rich enough, Nori would dare visit Ori and give him a little bag of gold – he was too old for a bag of sweets nowadays, and Nori didn't know what else he might like. He could picture Ori's smile as he talked about what he would buy with it. 

Nori held on to that small hope as he let the tides of the crowd sweep him toward his mark.

.


	3. the gathering Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took all day long to write. It is a long one.

.

Thorin called, and Dwalin answered.

He needed fighters, and fighting was what Dwalin was best at. Joining the quest to reclaim Erebor was a worthier use of his skills than terrifying criminals and young guard recruits – not that he didn't enjoy terrifying young guard recruits into being competent guards, but he was capable of more.

He had expected it to be like the effort to retake Moria, with Dwarves from all over swarming to join.

The relief in Thorin's eyes when he greeted him told him he'd been wrong.

“Cousin.” Thorin greeted, pulling him in for a hug, smacking his back hard. “I cannot tell you how good it is to see you.”

Dwalin looked around at the near-emptiness of Thorin's throne room, a coarse shadow of what a true royal court should be.

“How many have sworn on?” Dwalin asked.

Thorin's jaw tensed, eyes turning icy and brittle, “There will be more. Dain will send soldiers, if no one else.” he said, “Oin and Gloin, and Fili and Kili... and you?”

Dwalin nodded firmly even as his heart sank to hear that they were so few. “I'll send a letter to Balin. He will join.” he said.

Something seemed to loosen slightly in Thorin's shoulders, “Balin... good. We can use as many as we can gather.” He led Dwalin to side table to speak casually, ordering ale brought out.

There was much planning to do. Gandalf the gray, the one they called a wizard, had given his blessing to the quest but that was no guarantee of success.

And there was the problem of so few Dwarves wishing to join the quest. The tragedy of the battle of Azanulbizar was too fresh in their memories, despite Erebor being a different type of story entirely. They were as reluctant to follow Thror's heir as they had been eager to follow Thror himself.

“Shield brother.” Thorin said, clasping Dwalin on the shoulder, “I would keep you here with me until we leave, to train with my Company... my sister-sons in particular, to be sure they are all _capable_ as well as willing.”

Dwalin nodded. This he could do. Thorin stood to dismiss him, and Dwalin stood too.

“...be _careful_ with them.” Thorin said, almost as an afterthought if it weren't for the directness of his gaze, “I do not want anyone injured before the quest even begins... and Dis would have _both_ our heads if her lads were harmed.”

Dwalin looked down at his hands, big and scarred and tattooed, flexed them in his mismatched knuckledusters, worn and pitted with use. Dangerous hands.

Killer's hands.

Thorin wasn't wrong to worry... to remind him.

He was lucky enough to be trusted with the princes at all.

Dwalin nodded again, and saw himself out.

.

The days settled into a new routine once Dwalin had left his position in the guard and moved his belongings into a spare room of the large house that passed for Thorin's palace. He trained with Fili and Kili and Oin and Gloin, sometimes with Thorin, and on rare occasion with Lady Dis herself.

Balin answered his letter positively, he would be joining them once the quest began.

There were many long conversations planing the quest – how things would go if they gathered a hundred warriors, a thousand... or merely ten.

Thorin entered talks with a common family, wandering Dwarves of Moria, and they joined the Company. A toymaker, a miner, and an architect – Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. The skills of an architect and miner Dwalin could see being useful with their stone-sense - who knew how much structural damage Smaug had done to Erebor - and the toymaker was a decent fighter even with an axe in his head.

Dwalin did not think they would be getting any more Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, and he could see that Thorin was thinking the same, but he still spread the word, and he still held his court every day even though no one was joining.

Dwalin had joined Thorin in his throne room to spend the evening playing a few quiet rounds of Fox and Geese while Gloin and Fili looked on and offered comment. Thorin was going to win their current round, he was better at playing the Fox than Dwalin was at the Geese. They all jumped when the one of the bored guards at the door announced a visitor.

The board was swept away. Thorin stood and adjusted his furs, transforming instantly from Dwalin's childhood companion to a King, nodding to the guard to let the visitor in.

The thief walked in as if he expected to be attacked at any second. If he'd been a cat he'd have arched his back with all his hair standing on end.

Only years of practice kept Dwalin's jaw from dropping.

 _Why_ would a known criminal walk into Thorin's palace? Oh, enough bribes had been paid to get him set free, but there was nothing stopping him from getting locked up again.

The thief's eyes darted from one door guard to the other before fixing on Thorin. He bowed briefly enough that Thorin could have taken offense at a slight, but it was clearly just nervousness and Thorin let it go.

“I have come to join the quest for Erebor.” the thief said, and somewhere under Dwalin's shock at this turn of events he wondered where the smaller Dwarf had gotten such a deep bruise across his cheek.

Thorin nodded regally, “I would be pleased to discuss that with you...”

“Nori, son of Kori.” the thief filled the space Thorin had left him.

“Oh, is _that_ your name?” someone said, and Dwalin realized with a sinking feeling that it had been _him_ when everyone turned to look at him. The thief, Nori, blanched dead-white as he finally noticed Dwalin.

“...Kori...” Thorin mused, “Not Kori the warrior? Kori of Erebor?”

“Kori, second Captain of Erebor's Army.” The thief confirmed, turning his horrified eyes away from Dwalin and fixing them on the King again.

“That's not right.” Gloin said, “You're too young. Kori died with the Dragon.”

There was a flicker of anger in Nori's eyes as he squared his shoulders. “It is my _right_ to claim Kori as my father. My mother never remarried. I know the law.”

“I know the sons of Kori.” Fili said, the blond prince was eying the thief distrustfully, “Amad...” he started, then stopped, corrected himself, “ _Lady Dis_ buys her lace from Dori, and then there's the little one... Ori? It's just the two of them.”

“I _am_ a son of Kori.” Nori said, “Ask Ori if you like, but you're not going to turn me away.” He was looking Thorin directly in the eye now, defiance in every inch of him, “Everyone knows you haven't even got _ten_ Dwarves to go with you. You need every hand you can get.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow, staring the thief down. Challenging Thorin was not a good way to get on his good side, if that's what Nori was after.

Dwalin stood, “What are you _really_ doing here, thief?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and low. A warning. “What are you after?”

“I am here to help reclaim Erebor.” Nori repeated, the whites visible all around his eyes as the guards at the door moved to block it and Thorin looked sharply at Dwalin.

“A thief?” he questioned, gesturing discreetly to the guards, who began to summon more. The motion was obviously not lost on Nori, who's lips twitched into that characteristic sneer he wore when he was cursing for just an instant before he banished it from his face, leaving behind a look that was just pure terror.

“A thief.” Dwalin confirmed, “The most _recent_ thing we've caught him for was the jade pin from the royal treasury.”

“You got it back.” the thief said, desperately, “I can help with this quest. You need every hand you can get.”

“Better a hand missing than one that stabs you in the back.” Thorin said, nodding to the guards who stepped forward to grab Nori. The thief tensed, fruitlessly trying to pull away from them, lips thin as he pressed them together – as though it were all he could do not to begin cursing.

“Throw him out.” Thorin said, “I'll not have someone imprisoned for trying to join me, ill-advised as it was.”

“I can help you!” Nori's voice cracked on it, twisting in the twin iron grips of the guards as they dragged him away. His eyes met Dwalin's, wild and terrified.

“Wait.” Dwalin said, scrabbling in his mind for a reason for _why_ he'd said that as eyes turned to him questioningly and the guards stilled.The thief had come here apparently of his own free will, and he was struggling but he wasn't _fighting_ , he hadn't lashed out at the guards at all, and he wasn't cursing – when he was known for spewing the foulest things as soon as anyone touched him.

“I'd like a word with him.” Dwalin said. “...he might be telling the truth.”

Thorin's eyebrows rose, he leaned over toward Dwalin, whispering so their words were only between them, “Would you have him on this quest?” he asked.

“I don't know yet.” Dwalin answered, “But I _do_ know how to make him talk, and I'd like to know what he's up to.”

Thorin's jaw clenched, “I'll not have him injured for trying to join me any more than I'd have him imprisoned.” he said, disapproval clear in his whisper.

Dwalin shrugged and flexed his hands, inspecting his knuckledusters for damage. Let Thorin come to whatever conclusions he would.

“He _could_ be useful, if we knew we could trust him.” Fili mused, and Thorin shot him a look for having interrupted a private conversation... and looked at Nori, watching them intently... and then back at Dwalin. He breathed a disapproving huff before nodding once and leaning away.

“Have your word with him, Dwalin.” Thorin said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “and I don't want to see any injuries on him.”

“You won't.” Dwalin said, seeing the thief's eyes widen... he was clever enough to realize that Thorin had absolved himself for any responsibility for injuries to Nori while barely limiting what Dwalin might be able to do. Fili was smiling – hopefully he wasn't still so oblivious once he became King. Gloin glowered disapprovingly, but didn't say anything.

“The second pantry's empty.” Dwalin said to the guards, and they nodded and hauled the thief toward it – Nori still fitfully trying to jerk out of their grasps – followed by Dwalin.

“You can go.” Dwalin said when they arrived, unhooking the knives from the back of Nori's belt and handing them to one of the guards, taking a firm grip on Nori's arm, “Close the door behind you and wait at the end of the hallway.”

He let Nori go as soon as they were gone, and Nori backed up until his back was pressed flat against the stone wall, staring wide-eyed up at Dwalin... and this was new, for both of them. Nori unchained and not having been worked over already. Dwalin had no idea if it would still work.

“Why did you come here.” he asked, stepping forward. Nori tensed everywhere as if bracing for a blow, and again that sneer he wore while he was cursing flickered briefly across his face before he swallowed it down.

“I came to join the quest to reclaim Erebor.” he said.

Dwalin reached out, his big fingers brushing against the dark puffy bruise on Nori's cheek. Nori's eyes squeezed closed tight as he turned his face into it, pressing into Dwalin's hand with a half-broken shuddering breath.

How was it that a _thief_ , who should have more cause to be afraid of him than most, was the only person in the world who trusted Dwalin's hands?

“Where did you get this?” Dwalin rubbed his thumb whisper-soft across the bruise.

“I... it doesn't matter.” the thief said, and this time Dwalin was close enough to smell a touch of alcohol on his breath.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, he placed his second hand on Nori's shoulder, gently rubbing at the tense muscle through his shirt.

“Not nearly drunk enough.” Nori answered, leaning into Dwalin's hand “Just a little, for courage.”

“Do you want to stick with the name you gave us?” Dwalin asked, “We _will_ be checking.”

“I'm Nori son of Kori, my mother's secondborn. Ori will tell you.”

Dwalin slid his hand from Nori's cheek to the back of his neck, stroking through soft hair that was for once not drenched with sweat and blood, Nori answered it with a full-body shudder.

“Why did you come here.” Dwalin repeated his first question.

“Because I'm _tired_.” Nori answered miserably, opening his eyes to look up at Dwalin, “I'm tired of running and hiding. I'm tired of being arrested. I'm tired of being nameless and outcast and hated and _disowned_...” he visibly cut himself off, leaning harder into Dwalin's hands.

“I'm just tired.” he muttered.

“This is a chance for a new life.” Dwalin realized, and Nori nodded once. Dwalin ran his hand over Nori's chest and the lean Dwarf pushed forward into it even as he let out a small pained whimper. Dwalin unbuttoned the top few buttons of Nori's shirt, looking in to see bruises. He stroked across them gently, soothingly, as he tried to place what they looked like.

He buttoned Nori's shirt back up and took a loose handful of it, seeing where the buttons and his knuckles would have lined up with the line of bruises he'd seen if his hand were smaller – someone using it as an anchor, probably while they landed the blow that was bruising the thief's cheek, possibly slamming him against a wall with it.

Dwalin smoothed Nori's shirt out and continued petting him, going gently on the bruised center of his chest.

“How do you think you can help us on this quest?” he asked.

“I see things differently. I'll see paths and possibilities that the rest of you won't... and I'm not a bad fighter...” he turned his face away from Dwalin, eyes closing again, voice dropping to just barely above a whisper “...every Company needs someone expendable to throw to the Wargs if it gets bad, someone nobody likes...”

“That's not how a Company _works._ ” Dwalin said, and Nori gave a short laugh, the saddest sounding laugh he'd ever heard, and he'd heard the laughter of the survivors of Azanulbizar and the Dragon. Nori looked at him out of the corner of his eye, a rueful look that said clearer than words 'do you really think I'm naive enough to believe that?'.

Dwalin stroked the unbruised side of Nori's face, “Will you swear loyalty to Thorin Oakenshield and his Company and do your best to aid and protect us on the quest to reclaim Erebor?” he asked. He knew he'd probably not worded it as well as he could, Balin would likely have pointed out all manner of holes in his statement but that didn't really matter. Nori would be asked to swear and sign a contract in front of Thorin later. Dwalin just needed to know that he would agree to the heart of it.

Nori looked up at him, rubbing his cheek trustingly against Dwalin's palm.

“I swear.” he said. With one hand cradling the thief's cheek, fingertips brushing through the edges of his red-brown hair, his other hand low on his back rubbing a small circle, and Nori's shivering into his touch and looking up at him like that... Dwalin believed him. The thief had never given him bad information before.

Dwalin pressed his forehead against Nori's for a bare instant, “I'll tell Thorin.” he said, releasing Nori and moving back. The smaller Dwarf stumbled forward half a step toward him before catching himself, drawing back with a flicker of disgust across his face. He tugged angrily at his clothes, straightening them.

Dwalin opened the pantry door and reached to grab Nori's arm to bring him with, only to have the thief jerk his arm away.

“Don't touch me.” he snapped... when just moments before he'd been pressing into Dwalin's hands like a cat. As unpredictable as a cat too, then. The Maker knew no-one would keep them if they weren't needed to catch mice... but he should not be surprised. Their truces had never lasted long in the first place.

“Then stay beside me.” Dwalin ordered, pointing to a space right next to him, and the thief took it. They walked together back to Thorin's throne room, ignoring the distrustful looks the guards they'd left at the end of the hallway were giving Nori.

Thorin was standing waiting when they came back in, but from the way Fili and Gloin were sitting, Dwalin would guess he'd been playing Fox and Geese against Gloin just moments before. If he was surprised that Nori was not being restrained, he hid it well.

“I will speak for Nori.” Dwalin said, “I believe he came here in good faith and could be an asset to the Company.”

Thorin looked at them for what felt like a long time before nodding.

“If that is your judgment, Dwalin, then he is your charge.” Thorin said, “He is your responsibility. Is this acceptable?” He looked back and forth between them.

Dwalin looked over at Nori to see what his answer was, to see Nori looking back.

“I know how to manage him.” He said, folding his arms to show off his biceps and knuckledusters, and hoping that he was not making the biggest mistake of his life.

Nori bowed, again more briefly than he should have... maybe he just didn't _know_ how he was supposed to bow to royalty?.. “Yes, your Majesty.” he said.

“Good.” Thorin said, “Welcome to the Company, Nori. We will have you sworn in once we can confirm you are who you say you are. Please enjoy the hospitality of my home, and know that if you do anything illegal you will be thrown in a dungeon so deep no bribe will ever set you free. Dwalin, we'll have a second bed moved to your room. Don't let him out of your sight.”

It took Dwalin a moment to realize what Thorin had just said.

“What?” he bellowed, and he hadn't meant to bellow it but it was definitely a bellow, and somewhere low just on the edge of hearing he heard Nori curse.

Thorin drew himself up, and Dwalin remembered that this was not just Thorin his cousin and shield-brother and childhood companion, it was Thorin his King.

“Do you already take back your agreement?” Thorin asked, and Dwalin bowed the way a kinsman should to a King.

“No, Thorin.” he said.

“Then go see see to the accommodations for Nori, and do not let him out of your sight.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second pantry is empty because it's spring and supplies are running low. Not so low that they need to worry, just low enough that the second pantry has been abandoned until next fall.


	4. no exits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori is not sleeping.  
> He is also _not_ panicking because there are no escape routes from his room.  
>  There are also some family feels. They are not happy feels.

.

Nori wrapped himself tight in his blanket leaning against the wall, knees against his chest, and tried not to think about how there were no exits to this room. The door was locked, not that locks ever stopped Nori, but he could hear a guard on the other side, not to mention guards throughout the rest of Thorin's palace. There was no window. Instead of a window for ventilation there was a series of decorative holes carved into the solid rock, Nori could have fit his hand into the biggest of them, but no more.

He did not _know_ how anyone could sleep somewhere without at least three escape routes.

Across the room Dwalin slept, flat on his back and snoring slightly. He looked to be dead to the world, but he came awake instantly if Nori's bed so much as creaked or his blankets rustled.

Nori was trapped.

He was trapped in a room with no way out and Dwalin watching his every move. Dwalin, the most feared guard in New Belegost, the one they said could crush a skull like an egg with the grip of one of those oversized hands.

Nori slowly, carefully so as to make no sound, reached up and touched his bruised cheek – looking at Dwalin's hand which had fallen to the floor.

Dwalin who'd asked him how he'd gotten hurt as if he _cared_. Dwalin who looked sympathetic while he figured out the bruises on his chest.

Dwalin who was gentler with his big hands than anyone Nori knew.

Dwalin who was willing to speak for him in front of Thorin, who growled and complained about being saddled with Nori but then shoved a little tin of healing salve at him for his bruises and made sure he had an extra blanket in case he got cold.

Nori had been terrified when he was left alone to be questioned by Dwalin – not that he hadn't been terrified already, coming to sign on to Thorin's Company was the most terrifying thing he'd ever done – because even though Dwalin had never hurt him before it was a completely new situation. He was usually pushed out to the edges of his endurance by the time Dwalin came to him, and he didn't _know_ if Dwalin was going to decide to work him over before asking questions. Everyone knew Dwalin _could_ and _had_ done fatal damage accidentally and Nori couldn't hide behind anger and swearing because he _wanted_ to tell the truth.

Then Dwalin touched him as gently as ever, and believed him, and Dwalin's hands felt _so good_ when he wasn't already in pain that Nori wanted to chase after them when Dwalin was done, wanted to be wrapped up in them and never be let go.

Nori glared at Dwalin's hand lying on the floor in the dim reflected light. He was not some needy _child_ to want... to _want_. It was not as though Dwalin _enjoyed_ touching him, or wanted to. It was just that Dwalin knew it made Nori forget to watch his tongue.

Nori widened his glare to all of Dwalin, sprawled across his bed with the blankets all tangled around him, his broad chest rising and falling with his even snores. Nori knew he shouldn't want to curl into the empty space by Dwalin's side and have one of Dwalin's arms wrap around him, close and warm – like a foggy sleepy memory that could have been of his mother but might have been Dori.

Nori sneered, pressing his fingers firmly against his bruised cheek, let the bright flare of pain and anger clear out his thoughts.

 _Dori_.

Nori had gone to see Ori, watching and waiting until Dori was gone before he climbed down out of the shadows and knocked on the door.

Ori, _he'd gotten so big_ , had been happy to see him. He'd laughed and brought Nori into the house and they'd sat on Ori's bed drinking tea while he happily talked about what was going on in his life. He was clever and dedicated enough he'd made Journeyman scribe already, though he wasn't even seventy-five yet. He'd proudly demonstrated different quill techniques and inks for Nori, and Nori wished he'd known to get him rare inks or quills instead of just a bag of gold.

“Sweets?” Ori had asked brightly when Nori handed the bag to him, and had laughed when Nori said he thought he was too old for that now.

“ _No one's_ too old for sweets! You always used to bring me the _best_ ones.” he'd said, tucking the gold away and launching into a story about his work and what he wanted to do for his Mastery, if only he could convince Dori to actually let him _journey_ now that he was a _journeyman_. It had been so nice, so much like when Nori had visited him back before their mother succumbed to the dragon cough, that he had relaxed and forgotten to keep an ear out for Dori's return.

He hadn't intended to still be there when Dori came back, but Dori came home early and Ori was animatedly telling a legend he'd been transcribing. Nori didn't realize Dori was back until he was blocking Ori's door with murder in his eyes.

“You!?” he'd shouted, and Nori had already catapulted himself off the end of the bed toward the window – but the window was locked and the catch was stuck.

It definitely hadn't helped things that he'd called Dori the cumstain of a mangy cur after the first hit, but he'd been in pain and afraid and the cursing was automatic.

He did appreciate Ori trying to help him – though he was fairly sure Dori wouldn't have actually killed him – but once Dori wasn't hitting him anymore he started _talking_ and that was worse.

It wasn't anything he didn't already know, that Dori hated him, believed him capable of _any_ depravities he could imagine _._

“I won't let you turn Ori into what Thjofr turned _you_ into.” Dori had concluded in a hiss before throwing him out the back door.

Then he'd said the words that would dissolve all family bonds, would disown Nori and leave him nameless and kinless in the world, and...

Nori closed his eyes for a moment, breathing carefully, pulling the blanket around himself as tight as he could.

Dori didn't have the _right_ to use those words alone, couldn't actually disown him without Ori's agreement – but they still _hurt_ with little Ori crying in the doorway and begging him to stop.

So Nori had gone, had gotten himself a little drunk and a little angry and a lot sorry for himself and walked right into Thorin's court to join his mad quest, convinced that the King was shorthanded enough he wouldn't turn him away.

...because if he was a hero who reclaimed Erebor, Dori would _have_ to acknowledge him...

Nori could admit it was not the best reason, and his plan (as much of a plan as he'd had) wasn't his best thought out, but it had worked.

Here he was, wrapped in a blanket in Thorin's palace, trapped in a room he could not escape with the most feared guard in New Belegost – watching Dwalin twitch in his sleep.

It was a comfortable bed he was sitting on, softer than what he was used to sleeping on, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep. He had trouble enough sleeping near anyone else even when he had escape routes planned out.

He tried very hard not to think about how there was no way to escape this room. He hugged his knees against his chest and listened to the groaning silence of a home carved into deep rock, and the guard shifting outside the door, and Dwalin's slow even snores.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thjofr's A+ parenting, let me tell you about it...


	5. dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori doesn't know how to be around honest Dwarves, and there's not a lot of sleeping going on.
> 
> -warning: ptsd-type nightmares-

.

Nori was an odd Dwarf, Dwalin decided.

There was something vulnerable in the way Nori slept all wrapped up in his blanket and tucked into the far corner of the bed, leaning against the wall.

At breakfast he took his porridge plain, but then Dwalin sometimes spotted him stirring in a big spoonful of honey he'd taken when no one was looking. Dwalin smiled a little at that, he had a bit of a sweet tooth, himself.

He was fastidious about his appearance, but luckily his elaborate hair peaks did not take him much time to keep in order.

Fili and Kili had had no problem confirming Nori's name with Ori. He was estranged from his family, but he _was_ who he said he was. The young scribe had described him right down to the bruise on his cheek, Fili said, and so he was signed on to the Company. Gloin had read the contract out to Nori before handing it over, but Nori had insisted on reading it through on his own, his lips moving as he painstakingly worked his way through it before he would sign it.

He was very good at avoiding being touched, slipping away from any hands that might have fallen on him. It hurt Kili's feelings, a little – with his puppylike need to be everyone's best friend – until Fili grabbed him by the shoulders and reminded him that _not everyone_ wanted him to be draped all over them all the time.

Dwalin had instructed Nori to stay beside him, he'd spoken for Nori but he'd still rather not have him lurking behind his back or straying out of eyesight, and being told once was enough. Nori was like a second shadow, sticking a set distance from Dwalin and staying very still and very quiet and watching everything. When Dwalin was sparring or sitting with Thorin in his court Nori would find a quiet corner to perch in, still and silent.

It was entirely too easy to get used to him there and forget about him, as Dwalin found out on the second day after Nori signed on to the Company. He'd been sparring with Kili while Fili practiced on a dummy nearby, when he'd looked up and Nori was _gone._

They checked first that he was not just visiting the necessaries, or his and Dwalin's room, or the kitchen... and then they raised the alarm.

The palace guards were on high alert, sweeping the entire house and finding nothing. The valuables were checked, and nothing _seemed_ to be missing.

Everyone had gathered in the kitchen and Thorin was, predictably, railing against the untrustworthiness of the thief when he was dragged in by one of the guards.

“He was just wandering the hallway like he owned the place!” the guard growled, clearly offended by the audacity. “He had these.” the guard put a small pack and an unusually long-handled mace on the table.

“What is this?” Thorin demanded, “Where did you go and what have you been up to?”

Nori blanched in the face of Thorin's anger, struggling against the guard's grip but still controlling the impulse to curse.

“They're my things. I just went and got my things.” his voice was high with nerves. He made a small sound of protest as Thorin opened the pack, emptying it onto the table.

An old cloak, a blanket, a pair of socks, an empty water skin and a bowl... just basic personal belongings, all of it plain and worn.

There were a few beats of embarrassed silence. Nori jerked harder against the guard's grip, not meeting anyone's eyes, and Dwalin heard him hiss slightly under his breath – it would not do him any favors if he started cursing in front of Thorin. Dwalin placed a hand on Nori's shoulder, nodding to the guard, who released him. Dwalin immediately let Nori go, and the smaller Dwarf began shoving his things back in his pack, shoulders tight.

“If you wanted to get your things you should have taken Dwalin with you.” Thorin said in a voice that might have been accurately described as a huff if he weren't royalty, he'd always hated looking foolish.

Nori looked at Dwalin appraisingly, then shook his head, “He'd never have made it. Too big. Too heavy... too slow.”

“You might have taken Fili or Kili, then.” Thorin said. “You are not to be wandering alone.”

“Thorin...” Dwalin said gently, “Thieves tend to hide their caches and bolt-holes in places no Dwarf would want to follow. They say more thieves die crushed in bad rock than the guard ever catch.” He'd seen it himself, running after a criminal to see them fling themselves headlong into condemned mine shafts or dance directly across flawed stone. Sometimes they lived. Sometimes they didn't. With how rarely Nori was caught, and the fact that he was still alive, Dwalin didn't doubt he was skilled at navigating bad rock – but with even the finest stone-sense bad rock was never safe.

Thorin blanched slightly at the thought. “Do not go wandering off again.” he ordered, and stomped away.

Lady Dis rolled her eyes, smiling at Nori who was clutching his bag and mace tight. “Don't take it personally, Thorin has never enjoyed surprises. Just let someone know first if you have to go get things.”

Nori looked down at the things in his hands, a mace and one small pack of worn belongings, he shook his head briefly, “This is everything.” he said, shoulders hunching up with tension.

“Let's get it put away.” Dwalin said, before Lady Dis or the princes could say anything that made Nori even more uncomfortable. Nori stashed his pack beneath his bed and spun his mace lightly in his hands, looking from it to Dwalin waiting in the doorway.

“Could I spar too?” he asked.

“Oh, hammers and coal, you must have been bored...” Dwalin groaned, Nori had been so quiet he'd not really thought of it. He gestured with his chin toward the practice room, “Let's see what you've got.”

Nori was fast, and focused, and light on his feet. He wasn't the strongest of Dwarves, but the longer handle of his mace compensated for it a little, giving him momentum.

He didn't tend to want to engage, preferring to circle and strike quickly, which made sense considering their relative sizes.

He wasn't bad. Dwalin wouldn't mind having him at his side in a fight.

They worked themselves up into a good sweat and took a break, drinking some water while they caught their breaths back.

“Could I have the next round with you?” Fili asked, and Nori nodded.

Kili leaned toward Nori, equal parts thrilled and appalled, “Were you _really_ out in the bad rock? Where did you have your stuff?”

Nori stood and nodded to Fili, picking his mace up, moving out into the middle of the training room floor and ignoring Kili's questions entirely.

“He never _answers_.” Kili grumbled... and the younger prince was right. The more time Nori spent with the Company, gradually getting more comfortable around them, the more obvious it became that he never said anything about himself... he didn't like it when other Company members started talking about themselves or their families either.

As long as discussion was about the quest and the logistics of that, he was engaged in the planning – but once Gloin or Bombur started talking about their families, or Fili and Kili started teasing each other about their childhood exploits, Nori would move away and watch with a kind of fascinated horror.

Nori adapted to the rhythm of life in Thorin's home but he did not relax, he did not settle. He was always tense, and he was always watching. His bruise healed quickly, fading to greens and yellows by the end of the first week– but he seemed more tired every day than the last, and he was still sleeping in a little blanket-wrapped ball sitting up in the corner furthest from Dwalin.

He thought he'd figured out what the problem was once he'd realized that Nori placed as much of the room between them as possible at night. It was understandable, considering that Nori was a thief and Dwalin was Dwalin. He was used to being feared, but he'd hoped that after a few days of Dwalin doing nothing but _sleep_ in his bed at night Nori would be able to sleep while Dwalin was in the room with him.

He was proven wrong the next night when he woke up to Nori thrashing in his blankets and swearing... and Dwalin had spent enough time with enough old warriors to know what kind of a nightmare he was seeing.

“Nori!” he said sharply, trying to wake him, but he was too deep for Dwalin's voice to reach him. Nori's entire body arched up with a cry of pain, and then he was cursing again.

Dwalin moved across the room, hesitating before touching the smaller Dwarf. It was always dangerous to wake someone from a dream like this one... but the alternative...

Nori cringed, fear and pain written all over his face, and then thrashed again, pulling sharply on his arm tangled in the blankets, “you can suck the spiked dick of a thrice-dead lich...”

“Nori...” Dwalin braced himself for an attack, gently stroking the thief's sweat-drenched forehead and cheek, and Nori's eyes shot open with a gasp.

“It wasn't me!” he gasped desperately, eyes wild, “It wasn't me, I didn't do it... I didn't... I...”

“I know.” Dwalin said, untangling the blankets from around Nori and rubbing his shoulder, “I know.”

Nori whimpered and wrapped his entire body around Dwalin's hand, clinging tight. Dwalin rubbed a circle on his back while Nori shivered and tried to catch his breath.

Dwalin knew the instant Nori had gathered himself enough to realize where he was, because he jerked away from Dwalin, backing himself all the way against the wall. He was still breathing far too fast and trembling, eyes wide.

Dwalin sat on the bed, turned away from him.

“Do you dream like that often?” he asked, very quiet.

“...no... it's this _room_.” He snarled, “I can't _breathe_... there's no way out... locked in, just like...”

Dwalin felt his hand clench into a fist – just like being locked in a cell, and it made him dream of the interrogators.

“Get dressed.” Dwalin said, grabbing his clothes, and despite his shaking Nori obeyed. Dwalin grabbed the blankets off his bed and gestured Nori to do the same, unlocking the door of the room and leading them past the surprised night guards and out to a secluded portion of the roof. During the day it was a nice place to sit, unseen from the street. Dwalin spread his blankets out, pointing to a nearby spot for Nori.

“Sleep.” he ordered.

Nori quickly assembled his blankets into a bedroll and climbed into it, looking anywhere but at Dwalin, but his shoulders were more relaxed than they'd been in days. Dwalin settled back into his own bedroll and tried to relax. It wasn't as nice as his bed, but it wasn't so bad. He'd be sleeping on worse very soon, once the quest began. He waited until Nori's breathing had evened out and wasn't so ragged anymore.

“I dream sometimes.” Dwalin said, “Dragonfire and the fall of Erebor... the Orcs of Moria... the worst is when I dream of the Dwarf I killed. I'm watching from behind my eyes, watching myself hit him, and I can see it – the blow that was one too many, the one that killed him – and I can't stop myself no matter how hard I try.”

He let silence fall between them in the dark, and it was a long time before Nori spoke.

“They say it's worse if you get picked up for something you _didn't_ do, because nothing you say can make them stop... so you lie, you try to confess but you get the details wrong and they won't _stop_...” Nori's voice cracked on it and he swallowed hard before continuing, “I've been lucky, but it's just a matter of time...” Nori trailed off and didn't continue.

“Not anymore.” Dwalin said. “You've gone honest.” Nori let out a half-laugh, a little disbelieving as though he hadn't thought of that yet.

“Would it help if we had a room with a window?” Dwalin asked.

“...probably.” Nori answered quietly.

Dwalin nodded to himself, tugging up his blanket and shifting himself to get more comfortable to sleep, “I'll get us moved.” he said.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hammers and Coal – For the swearing in his particular fic I wanted to try something a bit different. Nori, as has been established, has a foul mouth. When I decide to share what he's actually saying, I go for things that conjure unpleasant imagery. I think other Dwarves are unlikely to use the same type of swearing as he does.  
> I picked 'hammers and coal' for Dwalin, other Dwarves would understand the implication that these are the hammers and coal of Mahal's forge, so he can say the equivalent of 'oh god' without actually risking upsetting the Maker by naming him in a cursing-type situation.  
> If I knew more about mining I would probably have them use describe weak rock or dangerous mining conditions, but I don't, so I don't.


	6. the scribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori joins the Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: the appendix of LOTR states the ages of Fili and Kili at 82 and 77, respectively. Gimli's age at the same time is 62, which is supposed to put him at around 14. Adam Brown has said that Ori is supposed to be 17, but my extremely helpful Tumblr friends were unable to find an official age for him – so I had to make stuff up. For the purposes of this fic, at 75 a Dwarf is considered to be an adult, capable of signing contracts, etc... Ori is around 73/74.  
> I know the princes are the youngest on the Company in book-verse, but Ori has been stated to be the youngest in movie-verse, so that's what I'm going with.  
> Many thanks to tagath and iamallybee of Tumblr for their help with ages.

.

Nori could have done worse than having Dwalin assigned to watch him. It could have been miserable, but the big guard didn't bother Nori much as long as Nori didn't stray too far from him. Nori was good at being still and silent until he was forgotten, but the trick didn't work on Dwalin as well as it had worked on Thjofr, as he found out when he slipped away to get his things. Dwalin had been deep in his practicing with Fili and Kili. Nori had not expected his brief absence to be noticed.

He said goodbye to his hideout, a little cavern high up in the bad rock – perfectly safe if you were quick and light and light on your feet. It had served him well. He gathered his belongings up out of his caches and considered caving it in behind him, but didn't. Let someone else use it, if they could feel out the safe paths through the bad rock. He left a rune on the floor in charcoal saying 'unclaimed' and left it behind. It hadn't taken him long, and he hadn't expected Dwalin to notice.

Thorin's reaction when he got himself caught coming back just proved what he'd known all along – he was the outsider in this group. The one who didn't fit in. No one else in the Company was placed under guard... but it was not as bad as it could have been. Dwalin seemed to take his responsibility to watch Nori to mean seeing to his comfort as well as making sure he wasn't stealing Lady Dis' jewelry. (Not that Nori would have stolen her jewelry if he were going for some shiny. Her collection of lace was clearly more valuable, less guarded, and easier to fence.)

Dwalin didn't wake him up by throwing a boot at his head when he started dreaming badly. Nori had woken up with big hands soothing him, and even half-asleep and panicked he knew those hands meant the pain was over. Dwalin got Nori _outside_ so he could finally _sleep,_ and the next day he asked Lady Dis to move them to a room with a window. He didn't say anything about it, but at night he left the door unlocked and cracked the window shutters slightly.

It wasn't much, with only one real escape route, but it was enough. Nori finally managed to sleep through the night... and once he was able to sleep Nori could finally appreciate how nice it was to live in a house, to have three regular meals a day, to sleep on a comfortable bed and not have to keep one eye open. It was good, even if he was the outsider in the Company.

Sparring helped. Sparring with Dwalin was like fighting a rockslide – your only chance was to be fast and try not to get crushed. Fili was fast and fierce, Kili was reckless and enthusiastic, Gloin was deceptively calculating for all his ferocity. Oin, when he showed up, was methodical and cautious and absolutely committed once he decided on an attack. The rare times Nori sparred with Thorin, the King was impeccably controlled and technically perfect without being rigid.

It was generally agreed that sparring with Bifur was a bad idea, since he could sometimes forget that he was _sparring_. Bombur tended to focus more on defense, but when he launched an attack it stuck. Bofur was Nori's favorite to spar with, he was fierce and unpredictable and he tended to laugh the whole way through.

The less said about the one time Nori sparred with Lady Dis the better. She was terrifying.

The Company was coming together, finding their places together. Nori was put on a less strict guard, as long as he was with a member of the Company he didn't have to be in Dwalin's sight at all times... but Nori at least had gotten used enough to their arrangement that he still found himself shadowing the warrior most of the time. The Company began preparing to leave. Thorin had had word from his so-called wizard, who wanted them to pick up a Hobbit to bring with them – clear proof that he was just a cracked old Man, to Nori's mind. Hobbits were good for two (or possibly three) things, from what Nori had heard. Food and pipe-weed were agreed upon, and Nori had heard a time or two that they were generous lovers and experts at pleasure, but it didn't seem _right_ to bed them. They didn't even have _beards_.

At least with a Hobbit and an old Man in the Company Nori wouldn't be the outsider – or at least not the outsider the furthest to the outside.

It was a quiet evening not long before the Company was set to leave, and Thorin was still holding court even though he had no chance of gathering more Dwarves from New Belegost to his quest. Nori was sitting quietly behind Dwalin while Lady Dis decimated Thorin at Fidchell, sweeping her soldiers across the board with brutal precision. Gloin and his wife Vali were cheering Lady Dis on while his son Gimli and Fili and Kili were attempting to give Thorin advice. Everyone else was making wagers and drinking ale. It was good ale, and Nori had already won a little gold off Bombur, who had never seen Lady Dis play before. It had not taken him long to learn to _never_ bet against Lady Dis.

The fierce competition was interrupted by the door guard announcing a visitor. The game was tucked away and everyone tried to make themselves look official and slightly bored while Thorin rose to take his place at the head of the room – Nori wondered if the same thing had happened when he came to sign on to the Company.

Nori fumbled and nearly dropped his, thankfully empty, tankard when Thorin nodded to the guard and they let Ori in. His mother's youngest son walked in with his chin high and his eyes red, fumbling nervously with papers in his hands. Ori's eyes swept across the assembled Dwarves, smiling slightly at Nori and getting an encouraging nod from Kili that the dark-haired prince probably thought was subtle.

Ori bowed deeply, “Your M-Majesty, I am Ori son of Kori, scribe. I would like to join you on your quest. I... I have here...” He awkwardly waved the papers in his hand, “a letter of reference from my former Master and an evaluation from my combat instructor...”

“Let's see them, then.” Gloin said, taking mercy on him and reaching for the papers, Ori handed them over gratefully and stood, fidgeting with his hands in his knit gloves.

Nori gripped his empty tankard tight. Dori was going to kill him. Dori was going to find him and kill him and it didn't even matter than he definitely hadn't encouraged Ori or even _told_ Ori that he was going on the quest, Dori was going to kill him.

“I would be pleased to discuss that with you.” Thorin said, and Ori brightened. Thorin's eyes flicked to Lady Dis, who had probably signed something to him that Nori wasn't able to see.

“Are you _of age_ to be leaving your family and signing contracts?” Thorin asked, and Nori relaxed slightly. Ori wasn't old enough. They would send him home.

Ori's bottom lip trembled, Fili and Kili were both giving him encouraging nods now... whatever this was Ori was doing, the princes were neck-deep in it.

“I am a Journeyman of my Craft.” Ori said, “and I am _very nearly_ seventy-five...”

“By which you mean to say that you are _not_ of age.” Thorin interrupted with a sigh, “I cannot sign you on to my Company.”

There were definitely tears in Ori's eyes now, but he plowed on regardless, fingers twisted tight together in his gloves, “There... there _is_ a strong legal precedent for Journeymen to enter into c-contracts even before turning seventy-five. The history of your quest will be much more accurate if you have a scribe with you from the start, and I could earn my Mastery writing it, and...” he looked up at Thorin's closed face with something like desperation, “...and I _wouldn't_ be traveling alone. I would be going with my kin.”

Ori turned a little to smile at Nori, “I would be going with my brother.”

Brother.

It twisted like a knife in Nori's chest. Nori was barely kin and wouldn't be even _that_ if Dori had his way... and Dori _would kill him_ if he put any claim of family on Ori. That much he had made very _very_ clear.

And Ori was smiling at him as though he _wanted_ him, as if he were more than an embarrassment and a problem, little Ori who'd always been so sweet when Nori was allowed to visit.

“It takes more than a shared mother to make brothers.” Nori said, feeling the eyes of the Company on him as he put his tankard down and left out the nearest door... not fast enough to miss Ori's heartbroken expression, or Fili and Kili's offended exclamations, or Lady Dis' voice gently urging everyone to sit and discuss this calmly.

.

Dwalin found him, of course.

Nori wasn't trying to hide. He was in their room, sitting on the wide window ledge looking out into the darkening mountain with the pack of his things beside him. He hadn't gotten any further than that when he realized that running away was stupid and wouldn't solve anything.

Dwalin sat on his bed, lighting a pipe and taking a slow puff at it. The sharp scent of the smoke wafted past Nori... the ventilation system in this part of the mountain was very good.

“Ori's signed on.” Dwalin said, and Nori closed his eyes. Dori was going to kill him.

“His legal precedent was very good, Gloin and Dis couldn't find any holes in it,” Dwalin continued, “and the princes argued for him. I think they just don't want to be the youngest. Young Gimli's upset all over again that he's not allowed to sign on too.”

“Dori...” Nori started, but couldn't finish it.

“He explained a bit of that.” Dwalin said, shaking his head in disbelief, “but Ori's a Journeyman, this is his right. He can go where he pleases... make what friends he likes...” he eyed Nori at that, but Nori shook his head.

“I had nothing to do with it, but Dori will still kill me for this.” Nori said, touching the phantom ache on his cheek where Dori's last blow had fallen. He was grateful that Dwalin didn't immediately deny it and start going on about the bonds of family.

“You're my charge.” Dwalin said, “That means keeping you safe, too. He won't touch you.” he even sounded like he meant it. Nori leaned further out the window, watching the very last of the reflected daylight fade.

At least with Ori writing the history Nori would be written about fondly... even if the Company ended up throwing Nori to the Wargs, Ori would probably give him a heroic death. That would put a pebble in Dori's boot, no mistake of that, the one he'd tried to disown using his family name to be a hero...

Dwalin finished his pipe and stood, “Come on. They were giving Ori tea in the kitchen, and there's shortbread too unless Gimli's finished it all off. Ori probably wants to talk with you.”

Nori nodded, stashing his things back under his bed and following to the side of Dwalin.

In the kitchen Lady Dis and Ori were sitting across from each other having tea while Vali smacked Gimli's hands to keep the stocky young Dwarf from taking the last of the shortbread. Kili was draped across Ori's shoulders and gave Nori an offended look. Ori's eyes were a little red and watery, but he smiled at Nori.

Sweet little Ori, so forgiving.

Lady Dis kicked a couple chairs out, giving Nori an encouraging smile, and they sat. Nori palmed a shortbread as the plate was passed to Dwalin. Ori poured the tea, and Nori settled in to talk without having to worry about being caught.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to asiswolf and antisafic of Tumblr, who were very helpful finding games that the Dwarves might play. 
> 
> Headcanon time! Gloin's wife Vali is the sister of Vili, the father of Fili and Kili, thus making the familial relationship of Gimli to Fili and Kili much closer and explaining their rhyming names. 
> 
> Also: Lady Dis kicks ass and takes no prisoners. That is all.
> 
>  
> 
> Now with Art by the ever-wonderful Inky  
> http://ofinkandquill.tumblr.com/post/57966216673/fanart-of-chapter-6-of-thorinsmuts-touch-bigger


	7. the final brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dori is not happy about this. Not at all.

.

Watching Nori with Ori was almost painful, a combination of obviously wanting to be close and obsessively keeping distance between them... but Dwalin knew the thief had his reasons. Ori had tearfully explained, after Nori made his sudden exit the night before, that Dori threatened Nori's life if he had anything to do with him. The deep bruise on Nori's cheek when he joined the Company was apparently from Dori, because Nori had come to visit Ori.

Dwalin couldn't imagine it. He tried to picture what his youth would have been like with Balin trying to keep him away from Thorin or Gloin, but he could not. He couldn't picture a life in which Balin wasn't always there for him.

Luckily the princes were more than happy to provide a buffer between Nori and Ori. Kili was thrilled he wasn't going to be the youngest on the Company, and that he had a new friend who, like Fili, didn't mind his tendency to hang on them. Fili was quietly proud that his plan had worked... they'd decided that Ori needed to join the Company when they'd gone to talk to the scribe about Nori.

They were going through Ori's things, making sure he had everything he needed for the quest, when Dori showed up.

His arrival was not unexpected.

Ori bit his lip, narrow shoulders hunching up, when a guard came to request the presence of the sons of Kori in the throne room.

“We'll be with you.” Kili said, bumping shoulders with Ori and smiling encouragingly.

“You're signed on.” Fili added, “You're coming with us. He can't stop you.”

Nori's entire body was humming with tension... between the stubborn determination of the princes, and Dori's likely anger, and Thorin was likely to be in a poor mood due to having his breakfast interrupted... it was going to be a mess, especially if Nori started cursing.

They needed someone with more tact in the conversation or it was all going to end in tears and shouting. Dwalin wouldn't be surprised if it ended in blows, actually. They needed someone who understood diplomacy. 

“Kili, bring Lady Dis to the throne room as quickly as you can.” Dwalin instructed, exchanging a look with Fili and Ori, and a quick nod that he hoped was reassuring with Nori.

Kili opened his mouth to argue, but Fili shoved him and he took off to go find his mother instead.

They could hear the voices from the throne room before they reached it, the voice that must be Dori was cultured and tightly controlled.

“...but he isn't _old enough_ to sign a contract. It isn't legal.”

Thorin, predictably, sounded like he would rather be dealing with _anything_ else. Preferably his breakfast.

“He is a Journeyman of his craft, and thus eligible to enter into contracts. There is a strong legal precedent.”

Ori and Fili entered first, Dwalin and Nori following. From Ori's description of him as the fussiest, most overbearing mother-hen of a Dwarf who ever lived, Dwalin was not expecting a solidly built Dwarf armed with both sword and flail, mithril hair ornately braided.

“Ori?” Dori said, voice trembling and eyes looking lost in his pretty round-cheeked face, he held out a scrap of parchment, “What is this?”

“I'm...” Ori started, but Dori's eyes had traveled to the rest of the group and landed on Nori, and his expression turned to fury.

“You!” He spat, as though speaking to Nori tasted bad, stepping forward menacingly, “I should have known _you_ were behind this. You _will not_ take him from me!” Nori bristled, shifting his weight on his feet into a lighter stance to either fight or run, that familiar sneer settling over his face.

“No one's _taking_ me anywhere!” Ori protested, at the same time as Fili said,

“Nori didn't have anything to do with it.” and Thorin added,

“Nori and Ori are _both_ sworn members of my Company, and you will speak...” but he didn't get to finish his admonition.

“ _You do not have the right to use that name!”_ he snarled at Nori, taking another step closer, his hand closing into a fist.

“You do not have the right to _take_ it from me, you...” Nori sneered, and Dwalin stepped in before he could make it worse by saying the foul things that were clearly on the tip of his tongue, before Dori could follow through with the blow he was even now dropping his shoulder back to throw. Dwalin placed one hand on Nori's shoulder as he stepped between them, reaching toward Dori with the other.

Dori took two quick steps back, eying Dwalin's hand distrustfully. Nori had stilled instantly under Dwalin's palm, relaxing, pressing into his touch slightly. Dwalin stood between them, one hand treated as a killer, the other a kindness. He gave Nori's shoulder a slight squeeze.

“You do _know_ he is a _thief?”_ Dori asked, looking in disbelief from Dwalin to Thorin.

“I know.” Dwalin said evenly. “I have interrogated him, personally, in the deepest cells of Belegost prison.”

Dori blinked, then shook his head, clearly deciding that it was not the fight he needed to fight. He reached for Ori.

“Let's go, Ori.” He said, “We can discuss this at home.”

“No.” Ori said, backing into Fili, wringing his hands in his gloves, “I love you, Dori, but I'm not going back with you. I... I'm my own Dwarf, and I'm going to earn my Mastery writing the tale of the quest... you _can't_ keep me forever.”

Dori's heart was breaking in his eyes, crystallizing into something harder, sharper... when finally Kili arrived with Lady Dis.

Kili threw himself between Fili and Ori, arm around each of their necks as he glared at Dori, while Lady Dis stepped up to Dori with a smile, hands outstretched.

“Master Dori!” she greeted, “It is _so good_ to see you outside your shop!”

“Lady Dis.” Dori bowed over her hands.

“You obviously have questions,” Lady Dis smiled, “but let's make ourselves more comfortable. Could I interest you in some tea?” She steered him toward the door nearest the kitchen without waiting for his answer.

“Thorin, bring the papers.” She said, nodding at the King, “Ori, Fili, Kili, come on...” she gestured them to follow, “Nori, Dwalin, you too.” She said, her eyes lingering on Nori's shoulder where Dwalin realized his hand was still resting. Nori had done nothing to dislodge it, was still leaning into it, and Dwalin's fingers had unconsciously begun to rub small circles. He gave one last small squeeze and let go as Nori seemed to realize the same thing and shrugged out from under it.

Lady Dis settled everyone into the kitchen, she and Thorin beside Dori while Fili and Kili flanked Ori. Dwalin joined Thorin, who had decided to finish up his breakfast, while Nori slunk in against the wall and made himself as still and silent as possible.

Lady Dis went over the legality of Ori joining the Company, being sure to point out that Nori had refused to be a part of it. Dori grew quieter as the reality of the situation seemed to reach him. When all their explanations were finished, and all his questions were answered he sighed, putting his empty teacup down.

“Then I suppose I have no choice.” he said, nodding to Thorin, “I will come with you.”

Ori made a small sound of protest. Kili was more vocal in his disagreement, until Thorin held up a hand to silence him.

“Your Majesty, you cannot deny me the right to protect Ori?” Dori said, quietly. “He is the _only_ family I have.”

“Nori and Ori are _both_ members of my Company.” Thorin said, _“Could_ you work with them both?”

Dori glanced past Dwalin to glare at Nori, “If you order _that thief_ to stay away from Ori...” Dori started, but Thorin shook his head.

“I will not.” He said. “You would need to treat him as any other member of the Company. Ori, Nori... would you be able to work with Dori?”

Fili and Kili were whispering to Ori, so he turned his eyes toward Nori. The thief looked at Dori for a long moment before looking away, shrugging one shoulder.

“I've worked with people I liked less.” he said, dismissively.

Fili and Kili finished whispering to Ori, who nodded, “I... I could, on the condition that Dori understands that I am an _adult_ , and treats me that way.”

Dori's shoulders bowed slightly, but he nodded. “I understand.” he said, “It will take me a few days to put my affairs in order... I _wish_ I had longer to prepare, but...” He shook his head, expression grim, “I will sign a contract.”

“Welcome to my Company, Dori.” Thorin said, squeezing Dori's shoulder. Ori did not look pleased, but the princes were giving him encouraging smiles, and – in Kili's case – hugs.

Dwalin looked over to see what Nori's reaction was, only to see the heel of his boot escape around the kitchen door as he slipped silently away.

.

The evening before the Company was set to leave was a quiet one. Thorin had left to meet with representatives of the other Dwarf kingdoms to gather what support they could send, while those with families were spending the last night with them they could.

Nori was sitting on the window ledge, looking out across the darkness of night in the mountain while Dwalin sat on his bed and considered the quest... it had been a long time since he'd joined a group like this, a long time since he'd been out on the surface, a long time since he'd seen Balin.

A _very_ long time since he'd seen Erebor, and the memory of dragonfire flickered around the corners of his mind.

“I need to talk to Lady Dis.” Nori said suddenly, and Dwalin followed him curiously out the door and through the house.

They found her in the study, going over trade agreements and contracts and all the things she would be overseeing alone now as she ruled New Belegost in Thorin's absence.

"Lady Dis." Nori greeted, bowing properly. He seemed to have picked up the trick of it quickly from watching everyone else. She nodded to him to continue.

“I want to repay your hospitality.” he said.

“There is no debt there.” She said, “You are a member of my brother's Company, and...”

“I _want_ to.” he repeated, his shoulders lifting with tension, and Lady Dis relented.

“Very well.” she said.

He stepped over to the slate table, empty of any notes or drawings now that all the planning that could be done for the quest was over, and began to draw on it in quick, confident lines with a piece of chalk.

Lady Dis and Dwalin both moved over to watch. She gave him a questioning look, but Dwalin shrugged. He had no idea what Nori was doing either.

In moments, Nori had drawn the entire floor plan of the palace. He placed a few gray pebbles on it.

“These are your guards. They move like this.” He said, nudging them along in their rounds. He looked over at Lady Dis, who nodded.

Nori dropped half a dozen pale pebbles around the palace, and then, as the guard pebbles continued their rounds, the pale pebbles came in through windows and ventilation shafts and moved through the entire house, getting into every room, and remaining out of sight of the guard pebbles. Nori moved them through and then back out, and then looked back up at Lady Dis, who was watching him with an expression of much more composed surprise than Dwalin knew was on his own face. _Why_ would Nori have memorized the palace layout and guard rounds?

“You are _not_ as safe as you should be.” Nori said, “If you change the guard's rounds just a little, to this...” he began moving the gray pebbles in a pattern as simple as the original, but different, “It makes it _much_ harder to get in.”

“Dwalin.” Lady Dis said, gently, “get me the captain of my guards.” She smiled at Nori, who was looking nervous, “That was brilliant. Thank you.”

Nori shrugged, nudging at the pebbles, and Dwalin heard a little of his answer before he was out of earshot, “It's what I do. I see paths and possibilities... never used it like this, before...”

Dwalin smiled a little as he went in search of the guard captain... the thief he'd decided to speak for was _already_ proving himself, and the quest hadn't even begun.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with lovely art by antisafic  
> http://antisafic.tumblr.com/post/58664673091/so-this-is-the-first-time-ive-ever-drawn-fanart


	8. trolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quest begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can sour me on a good fic faster than when it turns into a summary of the Movie or the Book. I will not do that with this fic. To that end, I will be doing a fair bit of time skipping.  
> We all know how the story goes, so I hope I don't lose anyone.

.

It should have felt like a betrayal to reveal the ways into the palace to Lady Dis. He should be regretting making the jobs of possible future thieves so much harder, but it would also make the jobs of assassins harder and he just _couldn't_. 

Nori lay on a comfortable bed, in a room with an unlocked door and a cracked-open window, and he was not cold or hungry, and he had not been since Lady Dis allowed him into her home. It was _Thorin's_ Company he was on, and Thorin who had made the invitation, but it was obvious he would not have lasted half an hour without Lady Dis' approval.

Her blue eyes, so much warmer than the Kings, always seemed to be smiling at him, so he could almost believe that she _liked_ him, a known thief in her house... and when Dwalin had asked for a different room for him, she had given it to him without hesitation. 

...and she had made Ori feel at home too, and protected both of them from Dori's anger, made sure he _had_ to listen to reason.

Not that Nori was pleased that Dori was coming with them. At least he had Dwalin... and that was a strange thought, depending on someone else to keep him safe...

Nori rubbed his shoulder where Dwalin's hand has rested when he stepped in front of Dori, keeping Nori safe like he'd promised. He listened to Dwalin's quiet snores across the room, and he could not feel even the smallest amount of regret for closing holes in the palace's guard rounds. 

Maybe it was just that, succeed or fail, he was not likely to ever be in New Belegost again. There was no chance he would need to steal anything from this palace.

Nori closed his eyes and tried to rest. This was likely his last chance to sleep in an actual _bed_ for a long time, and he shouldn't waste it trying to regret things he didn't.

.

Traveling out to Hobbit lands wasn't terrible. Nori avoided Dori, and Dori ignored him with a single-minded intensity. He'd worked with people he got along worse with... though to tell the truth he'd not been careful to lead them safely through the bad rock or make sure they didn't get picked up by the guard.

The rest of the Company were good enough company. Nori was on less strict of a watch, once they were out in the wild, but Dwalin still kept an eye on him.

He ought to mind that, but he didn't.

Once they reached the Hobbit lands things were less pleasant. Dwalin went on ahead, eager to see his brother Balin who'd been living out with Hobbits and Men. Then Fili and Kili had a fit of high spirits and went ahead too, and Ori wanted to go with them but Dori refused, so Ori was sulking and Ori sulking made Dori peevish. Nori rode near Bofur and got the cheerful miner to tell a few of his ridiculous stories, but even that wasn't enough to make the atmosphere in the group any less tense.

It was probably a good thing the old Man, Gandalf, met them at the bottom of the hill or they might never have found the right place in the dark.

Having everyone fall on on each other through the door did not improve Dori's mood at all.

The food and ale were excellent, though, and that brightened everyone's spirits. The reputation of Hobbits had not been wrong there. Nori wondered if their pipe-weed was just as good, but having gotten a closer look at Hobbits he was not interested in trying out the third thing they were said to be good for.

One thing Hobbits were clearly not good for was adventures... even _thinking_ about danger was apparently enough to make them faint.

Thorin had given Gandalf a look, muttering something about his choice of burglars, and Nori was certain he was the only one who saw the way Thorin's eyes turned to Nori just briefly, with almost a small smile.

…Thorin had his _own_ burglar on the Company already, and a professional at that. True, he might not _smell_ like a Hobbit, but there were ways to disguise a scent.

Nori settled back to smoke his pipe, and for the first time wondered if his particular skills might be worth enough to the Company that he wouldn't get thrown to the Wargs.

But with the Hobbit obviously not joining them, there was no one else who was more of an outsider than he was, so he gave that hope up.

.

Trolls were stupid. Everyone knew that.

Trolls were tough, but slow and stupid.

Nori wondered what that made the Company as he was turned over a spit by three Trolls, struggling to reach his razor, which they hadn't found on him. The heat was uncomfortable, but Trolls were stupid. They were too high up to actually cook, and when they eventually got tired of turning them over the fire Nori fully intended to cut the ropes, grab Ori if he could, and run.

They should never have ended up over a spit in the first place.

It was Thorin's fault.

Thorin and the damn Hobbit, who was even now trying to convince the trolls to skin the Company alive, which Nori knew enough to know was something you hoped you _didn't_ survive.

It didn't make sense.

The princes had gotten Bilbo caught by Trolls, and then Kili had started fighting the Trolls, and then everyone was fighting the Trolls to protect Thorin's sister-son. They would have won eventually, too, if the Hobbit had had the sense nature gave a field-mouse and stayed out of the fight. Instead he got himself caught _again_.

And then Thorin threw down his sword. For the _Hobbit_. It didn't make any sense. Nori could understand him doing it for his sister-sons, or even for Balin or Dwalin or Oin or Gloin, his kin... but for the Hobbit? Bilbo was the so-called wizard's favorite, but the cracked old Man wasn't here now, was he? Thorin had surrendered for the useless Hobbit who was the outsider the furthest to the outside in their Company who was even now convincing the Trolls that the Company was infested with parasites.

...actually, that bit was quite clever. Not likely to work long-term, but clever.

Nori had his razor in his hand now, with only a little rope-burn on his arm as the price of it.

It hadn't made sense for Thorin to surrender for the Hobbit unless he had some other plan, so Nori had gone along with it only to discover too late that Thorin had none and he had to reevaluate his position in the Company. Nori'd thought that Bilbo, at least, was more expendable than he was... but if Thorin would surrender for the Hobbit, then Bilbo was important, which meant that Nori was back to being the first one to throw to the Wargs.

Nori began to cut carefully at ropes that were binding him, but hopefully wouldn't drop him in the fire if they were cut. The dirty rope wouldn't be doing his razor's edge any favors, but there were more important things – like surviving.

Down by his feet, Dwalin noticed what he was doing and grinned at him.

Nori wasn't sure quite what happened next, but Gandalf's voice boomed out, and there was a loud crack and morning sunlight, and then the trolls turned to stone.

It was a relief, but Nori was still tied up on a spit over a fire.

“Can someone get us down now?” Dori asked, “This is very uncomfortable.”

“Working on it.” Nori said, cutting another rope loose... and that was enough slack for him to wriggle his way free to jump clear of the fire. He grabbed a nearby stick and scattered the fire out from under the spit, glad the Trolls had left him his boots as he crunched over the coals and began cutting Dori's ropes – since Dori was the one on the bottom of the spit.

“Let me get this rope... can you wiggle a little to the left?” He gave quiet instructions as he worked, which Dori followed. It was the closest thing to a _conversation_ he'd had with Dori in years... _decades,_ probably, and he was the only one doing any talking.

Gloin and Fili had been freed from their sacks and were there to help when Nori cut the last of the ropes and Dori was free. They lowered him carefully to his feet and set to work on the next Dwarf in line... it was apparently too much to ask for him to thank Nori along with Gloin and Fili.

That didn't matter, though. Nori had known from the moment Dori joined the Company that his mother's eldest wouldn't acknowledge him, even if he _did_ help reclaim Erebor. Dori would watch and judge him every step of the way, and he would be found lacking.

It had been a fool's hope to think it would ever be different, even if Dori hadn't come.

They had everyone freed soon enough. Nori got dressed and inspected the stone Trolls, tapping one with the side of his fist and placing his palm quickly over the spot, just to see if it felt different from other stone.

He hadn't been expecting _how_ different it would feel from natural stone.

“Bofur.” he called, gesturing the miner over... after him, Bofur had the best stone-sense out of the Company. “Feel this.” he said, gesturing to the Troll.

Bofur circled it a bit, and then kicked it gently with his boot – his preferred method – wincing away and shaking his hands out, giving an admiring whistle.

“That's not _right_.” He said, “Bom, Bombur! Come feel this!”

Bombur plodded over and gave one of the Trolls a kick, he didn't even try to suppress his full-body shudder of revulsion, backing away from them.

Nori tried tapping the other Trolls, to feel if they felt any different, but they were all three matching in their gut-twisting _wrong-_ ness.

Solid and sturdy, but utterly _wrong_. Unnatural.

Nori left Bofur explaining to Fili and Kili what they were going on about, and went to investigate what the old Man had done that got the sun to surprise the Trolls. It was easy enough to find the freshly broken boulder to the east of the troll's camp.

He circled it, looking it over. There were no tool-marks on it to show _how_ the old Man had done it, so he tapped it with the side of his fist.

It practically _sizzled_ with the power of what had been done to it, and Nori snatched his hand back as quickly as he could, feeling numbed clear up to his elbow. He turned to look at Gandalf, talking with Thorin, and fought to keep his expression from looking as shocked as he felt.

Gandalf was more than just an old Man with light tricks and vague advice.

He _was_ a Wizard.

Nori didn't have long to brood on that, though, because Thorin had concluded his conversation with Gandalf and sent everyone out in search of the Troll cave. Nori fanned out with the rest of the Company to help search. The numbness in his stone-sense was fading quickly, but it was frustrating not to be able to help look better – not that he'd be able to find the cave that way if it was in soil instead of stone.

He heard Bofur saying the same thing, complaining that the Troll had thrown him all off balance... so at least he wasn't alone.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someday, Nori might entertain the notion that maybe Thorin wouldn't throw _any_ members of his Company to the Wargs (or the Trolls, Goblins, etc...). Today is not that day.


	9. I had a brother once...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brings us to Rivendel, and Dori talks a bit.

.

The Company ate and rested while Gandalf talked with Radagast, who made Gandalf look sane and well-dressed by comparison. Dwalin sprawled out on a sunny rock and relaxed... it was much more comfortable than being tied to a spit over a fire, and he especially liked the fresh air after the stench of the Troll cave. 

It had not been the best of nights... for a little while he'd wondered if they'd reached the end of the quest already... but then he'd glanced down at where Nori was writhing and cursing on the other end of the spit, and seen a blade in his hand, sawing away at his bonds. 

Nori who wasn't giving up, who smiled back at him, all fierce teeth and wild hair as they turned over a spit... Nori who was surprisingly flexible as he worked his way free of the ropes – Dwalin should probably check with him to make sure he hadn't hurt himself, Nori was his charge after all – but right now the sun was warm and he just wanted to _rest_. 

Balin was sitting nearby, and not too far away Nori was entertaining the princes with a coin trick, bright gold flashing quick as thought over the knuckles of both hands before he held out both fists to them. 

“How many coins have I got in my hands?” he asked. 

“Five.” Kili guessed firmly, looking at Fili for confirmation. 

“Two.” Fili guessed more conservatively. 

“One.” Bofur, who'd been watching closely, added. 

Nori opened his – empty – hands. 

Dori made a quietly disgusted sound from beside Balin, looking pointedly away from Nori as Kili delightedly accused him of cheating and demanded to be shown how. 

“You're very hard on your brother.” Balin said quietly, and Dori stiffened, indignation in every line of his body. 

“ _That thief_ is no kin of _mine_.” He hissed, proving Balin right. Balin must have given Dori a look, Balin was very good at that, because Dori continued, still very quietly, _“You_ are not the one who had to watch my mother cry.” 

Nori had given Fili and Kili each a coin from the troll hoard and was teaching them how to dance it over their knuckles. The young Dwarves laughed as they fumbled their coins, not seeming to miss the night of sleep they'd lost. 

“I'm not sure I've ever met a Dwarf who didn't make their mother cry.” Balin commented gently, “Nori seems a good enough lad...” 

“His sire could make himself charming too, when he wanted to. Long enough to fool my mother into giving him what he wanted.” Dori's tone was bitter as he glanced toward Nori and then away again. “He is _Thjofr_ , made over again.” 

Dwalin wasn't sure he'd ever heard a name rendered into a curse in someone's mouth quite that strongly before. 

“Is he now?” Balin asked, as though he were simply making polite conversation, but Dwalin knew him well enough to hear the burning curiosity in his tone... and Dwalin was too. This was the first he'd heard of Nori's sire. He stayed still and quiet on his rock, because Dori was less likely to talk if he realized that Dwalin was also listening in. 

It almost seemed like Dori wouldn't take the opening... when he finally did his voice was so quiet Dwalin had to strain his ears to hear it. 

“I had a little brother once, Balin.” he said, “A sweet, clever, laughing boy, the mithril of my mother's heart... and mine... but he _chose_ which family he wanted when he left with his sire, and when he _finally_ had the mind to wander back to let my mother know he was even _alive_ he was not my sweet, laughing brother any longer. He had turned into... _that_.” 

Nori had left Fili and Kili to practice with their coins on their own and had tucked himself away up between a few rocks, perfectly still except for his hands sharpening the razor he'd used to cut them free as his eyes swept over the Company, still and silent and watching. 

“He thinks only of himself, just like _Thjofr._ He is as cold and treacherous as the sire he _chose_ to leave us for.” Dori concluded, standing and smoothing out his clothes, “So _do not_ tell me that I am hard on my brother, when _you_ are not the one who had to watch my mother cry.” 

Dori stalked away to help Bombur pack and organize the Company's belongings. Balin turned and gave Dwalin a look, eyebrows raised, but there was no time for talk. 

The howl of a Warg echoed in through the trees. 

.

_Elves._

Even if they _had_ just run off the Orc-pack, Dwalin would never be happy to be in their houses or eat what they thought of as food. 

None of the Dwarves trusted them, or wanted to be split up into the rooms they were told to use, so they set up their camp out on one of the balconies by unspoken agreement. 

The mattresses, dragged out from the rooms, were soft and comfortable to sleep on once they weren't on too-tall bed frames. They were big enough to easily hold two or three Dwarves each so they shared, not trusting the Elves enough to want to spread their camp out unnecessarily. Nori slept on the other end of Dwalin's mattress, and it wasn't until the next day that Dwalin realized they hadn't even discussed it before they set up together. 

Bofur and Bombur found out where the Elves kept the _real_ food, and the second day was better than the first – with actual food to eat. 

Nori spent some time with Ori, discussing ways to sneak the young scribe into the library, where he wanted to compare his technique with the Elvish characters to the techniques the Elves themselves used. 

Nori's charcoal sketch of the floor plan near the library got some attention from the rest of the Company as he moved twigs (the Elves) and pebbles (Dwarves) around it, discussing different options with Ori. 

Dori was clearly seething, fists clenching as he watched Nori, hunkered on the floor surrounded by the Company, with Ori hanging on his every word. Dwalin casually placed himself between Nori and Dori, folding his arms _just right_ to show off his knuckledusters and biceps – a reminder of what might happen if Dori forgot himself. 

“You are a guard, or _were_.” Dori said, “Doesn't it _bother_ you?” 

Dwalin glanced back at Nori, listening to Kili make a wild suggestion with a small smile, letting him finish before pointing out the ways it wouldn't work. 

“He's not hurting anyone.” Dwalin said, with a half-shrug. “and it breaks up the boredom.”

“He's teaching my _baby brother_ to think like a thief!” Dori protested. 

“Aye.” Dwalin agreed, “And most of the line of Durin. Ori's in good company.” Dori shook his head and moved himself further away so he could go back to ignoring that Nori existed. 

Nori's planning broke down soon after, with Gloin arguing that one of Nori's least favorite plans was clearly the best one, and then Fili and Kili stole some of the twigs that were representing Elves and began to walk them over Nori's floor plan, narrating their silly Elvish thoughts in high squeaky voices... So it was no wonder that when Ori finally tried to sneak into the library he mixed up one plan with another halfway through and got caught. 

To the surprise of everyone hiding around watching, the Elf listened to Ori nervously talking for a moment, and then ushered him into the library with a smile. 

There were a few moments of tense silence. 

“I don't like that.” Gloin said, breaking it and saying what everyone was thinking. 

“It's not _likely_ to have been a trap, but...” Balin tried. 

“We shouldn't have sent him alone.” Fili said, looking at Kili and getting a nod in return, “We'll go after him.” 

Dwalin looked around – expecting Nori to tell Fili and Kili how to get in and _very_ glad that Dori wasn't here to see this part – only to see Nori slipping away, look of concentration on his face. 

“Stay here.” He ordered the princes, following Nori. Nori gave him a look of surprise, and then nodded, gesturing him to follow. They cut around the building, occasionally stopping and hiding here or there – Dwalin couldn't always tell from _what_ – before he had them climb in through a window, Nori more gracefully than Dwalin.

They found Ori sitting at an oversized desk, sitting on several books, and several more open on the desk. He was smiling happily as he paged through them, miming strokes beside the pages. He jumped when they came around the library shelf. 

“Sorry I got caught.” he whispered a little guiltily, “But they just let me right in, when I asked...” 

“I shouldn't have sent you alone.” Nori whispered back. “We'll stay here with you... I don't trust them.” 

Dwalin nodded in agreement. 

“I don't want you to be bored?” Ori tried, but Nori shook his head, sitting on the floor. 

“Take your time.” he whispered, settling into his normal still, silent, watching. 

Dwalin sat down too, and tried to copy him. 

It was not as easy as it looked. 

The third time Dwalin shifted himself to try to be comfortable, bored out of his mind, Nori kicked his boot. He looked up at the smaller Dwarf, who gestured him over to sit beside him with a turn of his head. 

He obeyed, curiously, grinning as he saw that Nori had sketched a simple Fox and Geese board on the floor and populated it with thirteen paler pebbles and one black one – he'd set himself as the fox, obviously. 

They played while Ori studied his books, and Dwalin laughed until his stomach hurt at the look on the librarian Elf's face when _three_ Dwarves went walking out of where only one had come in. 

The Company managed to keep themselves entertained in Rivendell, but Dwalin wasn't the only Dwarf who was relieved when Thorin gave the word that they would be leaving that night.  


.


	10. the only one who could

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stone Giants and Goblins. 
> 
>  If you cast your eyes upward, you will see this fic tagged 'TORTURE' and 'Canon Divergence' and that it is rated explicit.  
> I am not joking with these things.

.

Even with the rain, and the wind, and fighting to keep his balance on the slippery cliff face, Nori should have realized what he was feeling.

He should have realized that it was more than just the general instability of the rock, especially after the other stone giants started moving.

Bofur and Bombur didn't realize it either, but that was no excuse. Nori still should have realized, but he was as surprised as everyone else when the rock beneath their feet came to life and started moving.

He should have realized, but it hadn't felt _much_ different from normal rock until it moved.

After that, it felt worse than the Trolls. Stone was not meant to _move_ , and the _wrongness_ of it was nauseating, disorienting.

Nori wasn't sure how everyone survived, he was too busy trying to simultaneously hold on as tight as he could and find a way _off_... and when they _were_ all finally off the stone giant he still didn't know if they'd jumped onto another, or if the rock they were on was even _stable,_ because he was numbed clear through.

If he _never_ touched a stone giant again, it would _still_ be too soon.

“Blood and _shale.”_ Bofur swore, stomping his boots and shaking out the hand that wasn't holding onto Bilbo with a death-grip. “they were better as legends.”

The cave Thorin found for them was small and unoccupied, but something about it bothered Nori. He tapped the side of his fist against the wall and placed his palm over it, trying to feel through the tingling numbness, but he couldn't get anything clear.

He tried the other wall, hitting it harder. There was something... _something_... but he couldn't...

Nori even tried kicking the wall, to see if Bofur's method worked for him, but it gave him nothing.

“I don't like it.” he said, “We shouldn't stay here...”

“Bofur, Bombur.” Thorin said, “Is this cave stable?”

Bofur shook his hands out again and tried kicking the walls, Bombur just sat down. Bofur shook his head.

“I can't feel a thing.” he said, and Bombur nodded in agreement.

Nori hit the wall again, forcing all his concentration into his palm pressed against it. Still nothing, just that little niggling feeling of not-right. He'd abandoned places for less definite reasons – you didn't survive in bad rock as as long as Nori had by dismissing even the smallest feelings. He wasn't always right, but he couldn't _count_ the number of times he'd been glad he did.

“We can't stay.” he said.

“We cannot go back out there.” Thorin gestured out, at the rain, where stone giants might still be fighting. He stepped back, raising his voice to address the entire Company, “Bed down. Get as much rest as you can. Bofur, you have first watch.”

No one else seemed bothered, getting their blankets out and settling down with their families. Everyone was huddling close to their kin, grateful that they had survived. Kili was practically laying on top of Fili, and even Ori was allowing Dori to cuddle him.

Nori set himself in the back, near Dwalin but not so close as to crowd him. The big warrior was leaning against Balin, just their shoulders touching, and unlike most of the families they didn't seem to feel the need to trade reassurances.

He glanced toward Dori and Ori, lying close together with one of Dori's arms around Ori, Ori leaning on Dori's shoulder... and Nori remembered that sleepy memory of maybe that once being _him_ safe and warm with Dori... but that didn't matter.

Nori wrapped himself tight in his blanket, curled up in his corner, and tried to relax, tried to push that feeling of not-right away because it _was_ probably nothing. It was probably just the aftermath of the stone giants... and Nori was shaking, his stomach falling into his boots at the memory of the _wrongness_ as the stone moved under him.

Everyone else was settling, falling into exhausted sleep. Dwalin was starting to snore, his nearest hand falling out of his blankets. Nori let his eyes trace the shape of that thick, scarred hand in the darkness.

He shouldn't _want_ that hand, to feel Dwalin's confident gentle touch on his skin. He shouldn't want to crawl into Dwalin's palm to hide, to feel it close all the way around him. He shouldn't want to take the place on Dwalin's near side that Balin was taking on the far side, leaning against Dwalin's shoulder.

Nori closed his eyes and turned his face away. He was _not_ some needy _child_ to want comforting. He'd lived. They had _all_ lived, and that was enough.

And he was _still shaking_. He wrapped the blanket around himself as tight as he could. If he were among thieves he would probably try to find someone who wanted a tumble, share heated breaths and quick impatient strokes in the dark, let the release take the edge off his pathetic _need_.

Dwalin shifted, grumbling slightly, and Nori glanced over. The warrior had sprawled out, half-out of his blankets now as he snored evenly. Nori's eyes gravitated to Dwalin's nearest boot, which was kicked out toward him.

Maybe he could...

He glanced around the cave, to see that no one was watching... no one else seemed to be awake still. He wormed his foot out of the bottom of his blanket, rearranging himself slowly, silently, until his boot was resting lightly against Dwalin's.

Dwalin didn't react, or move away in his sleep.

It wasn't much. He could hardly feel more than just a slight pressure against the side of his boot, but it was enough. Nori arranged himself so he looked natural and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax. His stone-sense was still numb, but he could finally feel the edges of the numbness receding, and that helped. Soon, maybe, he would be able to feel if the cave really was safe.

He feigned sleep, and never knew where the act ended and the reality began.

He woke when the bottom fell out of the world.

.

The Company fell, they bounced, they landed in a dazed heap, and they were dragged away, shouting and fighting, by Goblins.

Only Bilbo managed to slip away from them, though Nori wasn't sure what he planned to do alone in a Goblin cave.

They were dragged in front of the massive king of the Goblins, the cave they'd been in revealed as the Goblin's front-porch – and Nori cursed the stone giants. He should have have been able to _feel_ that it wasn't a natural cave, that the floor was a false one. He _shouldn't_ have been so blind.

No one answered the Goblin king's questions, of course, everyone knows you never give any answers you're not forced to give...

Something froze in the pit of Nori's stomach.

Only _he_ knew that. The others weren't prepared. They didn't _know_. They'd never been captured before.

They didn't know how this went. They didn't know what was going to happen, and...

 _Ori_.

No, please no, not Ori.

But it _would_ be Ori or the princes first, unless someone _did_ something.

The Goblins cheered as their diseased king promised to make the Company squawk, ordering torture devices to be brought up.

Nori's heart was pounding in his ears, thudding in his throat and against the back of his skull. Only he knew how this story went... but even _he_ didn't know this, didn't have experience in this. Goblins were a whole different game, harder and crueler than even the most callous of Dwarven interrogators.

You were not _likely_ to die from a Dwarf's interrogation. You were not likely to survive a Goblin's. Dwarves had rules, even if they sometimes broke them. Goblins did not.

A Dwarf, for example, would never consider feeding you your own still-bleeding fingers.

...and yes, Nori _had_ met a Dwarf who'd seen that happen....

Everything was slow, so slow now. The Goblin king was turning, his eyes searching the Company and landing on Ori.

Thorin was tensing, drawing himself up in preparation...

Nori hadn't realized that he would surrender himself for Ori.

But that was bad. That was still bad. The Company would never have a chance to escape from the Goblins if they knew they had most of the line of Durin in their clutches... and once the Goblin king knew who Thorin was, he would have no problem recognizing his kin from their finer clothes... and Fili and Kili wouldn't _know_ to pretend they didn't care about Thorin. They would give themselves away.

If Thorin gave himself up, it would be Fili and Kili who paid for it.

Someone had to do _something._ If the Goblins could be distracted, _entertained_ , for long enough, the others would be locked up and Goblin construction was notoriously shoddy. They could sneak out, Nori had met Dwarves who'd done it. They could have a chance at escape and they just had to sacrifice someone who wouldn't break too quickly.

...and there was only one person who could do that. Only one person with experience withstanding torture, even if it was of a different kind.

The Goblin king pointed at Ori, and Thorin was starting to pull out of the hands of the Goblins holding him, and Nori could _taste_ the sharp bile of fear in the back of his throat.

If the Goblins knew they had the line of Durin in their hands, none of the Company would ever escape... Nori closed his eyes for a brief instant and was right back in Lady Dis' second pantry, Dwalin's warm hands on his cheek and the small of his back, his blue eyes looking down on him gently as he asked Nori to do everything he could to aid and protect Thorin's Company, and Nori had sworn it without hesitation.

There was only one person who could do this, and he just happened to be the one they were always _going_ to throw to the Wargs.

Nori would have preferred Wargs. Wargs were not likely to play with you before they ate you.

“Start with the...” The Goblin king began, and Nori let the anger out, all that well-practiced rage that had always let him hold on as long as he needed to, no matter how badly it hurt.

“Screw you, you bastard grandchild of a three-legged mule!” he shrieked, lashing out every way he could... not his _best_ insult, but he could always build from there.

He made sure to throw in 'how dare you' and 'do you know who I am', to make sure the Goblins thought _he_ was the one in charge, and he was loud, and he was fighting with his whole body, and he just had to keep them distracted and entertained for long enough for the rest of the Company to escape.

He could do this. He could do this, he had _always_ managed to last as long as he needed to, somehow or other, even when he thought it would kill him... and this _would_ kill him, and not quickly.

“ _That_ one likes to talk.” The Goblin king was laughing, and that was good. That was good, let the Goblins make the mistake of thinking just because he was _talking_ he would _tell_ them anything. He was dragged forward, kicking and biting and cursing, still cursing.

Nori could do this.

He'd always been able to do this. Use the anger against the pain, use the cursing to keep his mind distracted so he didn't think too hard, because if he thought too much he would break. He would and he couldn't.

They'd forced him to his knees, facing the Company, and he could see the horror on their faces. They'd never seen him like this, only Dwalin had, and Dwalin had grabbed Ori and turned his face against his chest, his other hand joining Balin in holding Thorin back.

At least Ori wouldn't have to see this, thank the Maker for that mercy.

The Goblins had pulled Nori's shirt and jacket down, baring his back to them. He'd not made it easy for them, but he was so vastly outnumbered...

He fought, he fought as hard as he could, and he focused on calling the Goblin king every foul thing he could think of. His nose was bloodied and he might have a few loosened teeth, but he'd had worse, he'd had worse, he could do this.

He could _see_ the Goblin coming around behind him with the whip in his hand... see the bits of sharp bone embedded in each leather strand, already blackened with old blood...

Nori's eyes found Dwalin's – held on to the Dwarf he'd always lasted for, as long as he had to – and he didn't let himself scream as the first lines of fire bloomed across his back.

He cursed, and he fought, and he didn't think, and he _held on_.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bofur's curse, "Blood and Shale" is shamelessly ganked from Ursula Vernon's comic Digger, which is a thing of awesome beauty and magnificence that everyone should read.
> 
> And there is some heartbreaking art:  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/57896306206/thorinsmuts-touch-proceeds-to-be-a-flawlessly


	11. a fulcrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company escape the Goblins
> 
> the same warnings as yesterday apply today too. 
> 
>  
> 
> I expected to get much further this chapter. I don't think I'll actually reach the _comfort_ until the chapter after next.  
>  Yeah. I'm terrible at telling how long things are going to take.

.

Dwalin turned Ori's face into his chest so he couldn't see – he didn't need to see this, _no one_ should have to see this – holding Thorin back with his other hand as Nori was wrestled to his knees, fighting every inch of the way. The King and the little scribe both struggled against him as Nori screamed his curses.

“He won't break.” Dwalin whispered, low and quiet, “He won't break. He _never_ breaks.” and he didn't know if he was trying to reassure Ori or Thorin or himself with it, or if it was meant as reassurance at all.

This Nori... _this_ was the sneering thief he'd known _so many_ years– blood on his face and curses in his mouth and unyielding rage in every inch of his body – but now he _knew_ him, as much as anyone _could_ know such a secretive Dwarf.

This time he was not a nameless thief who'd been caught for a crime, this time he was a friend and a companion who had given himself up in the place of his brother – and Ori _was_ his brother _even if_ he denied it.

There was a desperation in Nori's voice as he cursed at the Goblins that Dwalin had never heard before. His searing-bright hazel eyes burned into Dwalin, like the pain could stab through them and directly into Dwalin's chest.

He didn't even blink the first time the whip came down across his back.

Balin was holding Thorin back too.

“Bide your time, laddie. Bide your time.” he was whispering... Balin, always planning, always calculating, if _anyone_ could find a way, it would be him...

“Do something!” Kili's whisper was choked, fighting with increasing desperation against the Goblins holding him. “Do _something!”_

The Goblins were going wild with cheering and laughing, their foul king starting some horrible song. Spit and blood and curses were flying out of Nori's mouth, eyes rolling as he threw himself against the arms of the Goblins holding him with every muscle in his lean body, building his wall of anger that had never broken, and Dwalin _could not_ look away.

The whip came down again, and Nori's eyes were on Dwalin again. Thorin's entire body jerked as though it was _his_ back the blow had landed on. Kili's mantra of 'do something!' was rising in pitch, and Ori was pounding against Dwalin's chest with his fist, trying to break away.

“Thorin?” Fili's voice was desperation and condemnation and question, begging to be told that they were not going to do _nothing_.

Nori managed to smash his head into a Goblin's face, his rage and his cursing never faltering.

It was _horrible_ and Dwalin could not look _away_.

The third time the whip fell there was a blinding flash of light and a deafening boom... and the Wizard's voice calling them to fight.

Dwalin wasn't sure _how_ , but he had his hammer in his hand by the time his vision cleared. Nori had his torn shirts back on already, the razor in his hand covered in the blood of the Goblins who'd held him down, and Dwalin smashed his hammer through the head of the whip-wielding Goblin.

It was intensely, _viscerally,_ satisfying.

They were surrounded by the Company, weapons thrown into each other's hands as the Goblins screamed and they fought their way through the collapsing town.

Nori was right behind Dwalin, his face pale under the blood but the strokes of his knives sure and vicious.

Everything was the blood-bright blur of battle with no room to wonder if such a small Company against _so many_ Goblins even had a chance. The Wizard killed the Goblin king, and the Company fell on a raft of timbers.

They landed safely at the bottom of a ravine, through some quirk of luck.

And the Goblin king landed on top of them.

Dwalin pried his way out from under the crushing weight, pulled Bofur and Kili out too... and then he saw Nori.

He was still, horribly pale and still, pinned to the rocks under a thick timber directly underneath the Goblin king's corpse.

“Nori!” Dwalin threw himself against the timber, desperately trying to lift it, but even _his_ strength was not enough to budge it.

The smaller Dwarf's eyes opened, blinking twice before they focused on Dwalin... widening as they looked up beyond him, and Dwalin could _hear_ the roaring tide of Goblins following them down over the pounding of his own heart.

“...go...” Nori's voice was a breathless gasp with the last of his air, his beautiful copper-green and gold eyes losing their focus.

“I need a fulcrum!” Thorin shouted beside Dwalin, shoving one end of a broken beam under the timber pinning Nori. Bofur had grabbed another, doing the same thing on the other side. Bifur and Gloin shoved rocks underneath, and all four of them leaned on their levers.

Dwalin pulled Nori out the instant the timber lifted, tucking the smaller Dwarf under his arm. He had never been as glad to be so big as he was at that moment, carrying the dazed thief with him as they ran for daylight.

Nori had caught his breath back by the time they burst out into sunlight, and he staggered out from under Dwalin's arm to run under his own power.

The Company circled under the trees, all breathing hard and searching for their kin to be sure they _really_ had survived. Balin offered Dwalin a wide smile that reminded him of all the hopeless fights they'd fought and won together when they were young Dwarves. The princes were checking each other over for wounds and laughing in breathless disbelief. Dori had a death-grip on Ori, but he was looking _past_ him wide-eyed toward...

Nori was holding onto his long-handled mace as if it was the only thing holding him upright, his feet braced wide and his head bowed – he was _far_ too pale, a thin trail of blood flowing sluggishly into his beard from his bloodied nose.

Thorin rounded on Nori, eyes blazing.

“What were you thinking?” he roared, and Nori's head jerked up.

“That _I_ know how to handle it.” Nori snapped back, voice raw and blood in his teeth, “That your Company would _never_ have gotten a chance to escape if the Goblins knew they held the line of Durin... Better _me_ than your sister-sons or Ori.”

“Gandalf...” Thorin started.

“ _Only_ helps when it suits him. Did _you_ know he was going to show up?” Nori wasn't backing down, chin thrust out as though daring Thorin to take a swing at him and the edges of that sneering anger flirting with the corners of his mouth.

“Where's Bilbo?” Gandalf himself interrupted, and Thorin unleashed his anger against a new target.

They only had a few moments to enjoy the relief that the Hobbit wasn't _really_ lost – Dwalin was trying to make his way through the Company to Nori, needed to see how badly he was injured, needed to make sure he was going to be ok, _needed_ to soothe away his hurts – when the howls of Wargs echoed through the trees.

“Not _again_.” Dwalin growled, and the Company was running.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is bad at emotions. 
> 
> Also, there is art. It is magnificent and painful.  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/58075367210/more-scenes-from-this-fic-by-thorinsmut-this-time


	12. falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another bad chapter with some canon divergence, same warnings as the last two.
> 
> Maybe an additional warning for generalized despair and suicidal-ish thoughts that are more 'yep, we're definitely all gonna die' than suicidal but...  
> And, uh... feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness? (this fic is really sad right now I'm so sorry!)
> 
> Next chapter is comfort, I _promise_.  
>  *ponders the life choices that caused me to write this sadness*

.

Nori had dared to hope, for a brief moment, that he would _not_ die of Goblin torture as they fought their way out of the Goblin settlement.

Then the Goblin king landed on him, and he was trapped, everything agony and pressure, and he knew as he'd always _known_ that he was the expendable one. He had given them all he could, and he was injured. They wouldn't waste the time extracting him.

If he were lucky, he would crush to death before the Goblins noticed him.

If the Company were lucky, playing with Nori would delay the Goblins from chasing them.

Dwalin shouted his name, and Nori almost wasn't surprised. The big warrior had taken his responsibility to Nori so seriously, but he would go. He had to go.

Nori had never expected _Thorin_ to pry him out, not with the Goblin hordes streaming down on them, not with every second precious.

He didn't _understand_.

He wondered – as Dwalin practically carried him at a dead run – he wondered what the King thought he could still give him that was worth that risk.

Thorin would have given himself up for Ori, and he _had_ given himself up for Bilbo, and he had wasted time to save Nori and it didn't make _sense_. They weren't the important ones.

They were the outsiders, weren't they?

He remembered Dwalin telling him 'that's not how a Company works' as if he believed it, and Nori wondered, for just a moment, if he _wasn't_ expendable. If _no one_ on this Company was...

The King made sure he knew better, though, with the same ferocious reaction he'd had when Nori left to get his things in New Belegost, before the quest so long ago.

He shouted into Nori's face, and with the searing fire all up his back, feeling the blood gluing his shirt to his back, and the deep-bruised ache across his torso, and the fear and anger still churning in him – Nori didn't have the control not to snap back... and where was Dwalin? Dwalin should stop him, put a hand on his shoulder and make everything better, hold him back to acceptable behavior and fight _for_ him way he had ever since Nori joined the Company.

Thorin changed his target to Bilbo. Nori leaned on his mace and tried not to look at Dwalin. Even the tiniest motion was excruciating to his shredded back as he felt blood seep down it. Every breath was painful, but not in a broken-ribs way, at least. He knew how that felt and this wasn't it.

It was over now. He had done what he had to do. It was over and now Dwalin was supposed to make it better, Dwalin always made it better.

But it wasn't _like that_ this time. It wouldn't happen that way because there was nothing Nori knew that Dwalin needed to know from him, and he _should not_ need that, anyway.

He was on his own this time, and that was fine. It was fine, and...

Wargs were howling through the trees.

It _wasn't_ over.

Nori focused on just running again until they hit the edge of a cliff, and they didn't have time to feel out a safe path down that they could all take. If he were in any shape at all, Nori would probably have been able to use his stone-sense to feel one _he_ could take, but he _wasn't_.

Dwalin boosted Nori into a tree, and even though his hands were rough on his injuries it was all Nori could do not to just crawl into them and never let go, Wargs be damned.

He wouldn't have thought he had the strength left to jump to the next tree when the Wargs knocked the first one down, until he had to, and then he did, despite the pain as the motion unstuck his shirt from his back, dragging against the rawness of his injuries.

When he was in the final tree, he just closed his eyes and clung to it. He didn't have anything else left in him.

Nori held on when the tree fell over the cliff.

At least, between the Wargs and the fall, either way it would be far quicker than what the Goblins would have given him.

The tree jolted and Ori made an exclamation of terror. Nori opened his eyes, and he had been _so wrong_ that he didn't have anything left. Ori was holding onto Dori, and Dori was holding onto a tree branch, and slipping, and Nori was _right there_.

The pain didn't enter his mind, didn't even _matter_ as he grabbed Dori's arms. He wrapped his own arms around Dori's arms and the tree branch, wrapped his legs around the tree, and _held on_. It was all that mattered and all he could do, even though he knew it wouldn't do _anything_ ultimately. They were _all_ falling, sooner or later, but he _would not_ let his mother's other sons go sooner if he could make it later.

He closed his eyes and turned his face away from Dori. He didn't want to see it – the disgust, the hatred.

He held on, every inch of his flayed back screaming fire, and it wasn't _enough_. He was weak, he was so _weak,_ and Dori was _still slipping_.

The tree jolted again, and Dori gasped, slipping further, and Ori was whimpering, and there was cursing, quiet and fierce... but that part was him. He was cursing through the pain because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

Dwalin was roaring and Fili and Kili were screaming and the rest of the Company was shouting, and the tree jolted harder than ever before, and Dori fell.

Nori lunged for him, but he was too slow and too weak and Dori _fell_.

Dori fell, and Ori with him and...

Nori was slipping. His arms were _useless_ , he _couldn't_ get back up on the tree and he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to, after he let them fall and...

“Mr. Gandalf!” Dori yelled, and Nori's eyes flew open. He'd caught Gandalf's staff, and Ori was still holding onto him but he was slipping again and there was nothing Nori could _do_.

He couldn't even pull himself back up onto the tree.

He tried. He _tried_ but this time he _was_ done. He didn't have anything _left,_ and he watched as Dori and Ori fell down into the dark and disappeared from sight.

There was screaming and smoke and ash, and the tree jolted again, and Nori fell too.

.

Nori had never imagined birds larger than horses. He had never imagined birds that spoke. He had never imagined that he would ride on the back of one, that it would speak to him.

He was a _Dwarf_. He was not _meant_ to fly through the air.

“Rest easy.” the bird carrying him said, “Rest easy, child of Aule, you are injured.”

“Let me down!” he begged, or he was fairly sure that was in there somewhere with the screaming and the cursing.

“Be _still_ and hold fast.” it told him, “You will be put down where it is safe for your injured to be tended... you reek of blood and despair. We would not leave you so close to the Orcs and Wargs.”

In the end he did. He was too weak from pain to do anything else but bury his face in the bird's soft feathers so he couldn't _see,_ and hold on as tight as he had the strength to.

To _not move_ , to be relatively motionless with nothing straining, was relief enough that he was nearly able to rest, even though he was up in the air.

Even though moving was fresh agony, he had never been as happy to feel solid stone under his boots as he was when the bird finally landed and let him climb down.

Everyone was converging on Thorin, the King was lying limp and still, unconscious or... no, just unconscious as Gandalf brought him back... and Dwalin was helping Thorin up with Fili and Kili, and they were saying something about thinking they'd lost him when the Warg bit him...

When had that happened?

Nori hung back, and was quiet, and listened.

Thorin was shouting at the Hobbit, again.

The King was injured, he was injured and in a poor mood... it would be best if Nori did not call attention to himself.

Everyone's attention was on Thorin and Bilbo and that was good. Even Dwalin's, of course, because Thorin was Dwalin's _King_ and Nori was just his _charge_... Thorin was obviously more important, and Nori looked away from the big warrior.

He couldn't _look_ at Dwalin. Everything hurt and _all_ he wanted was for Dwalin to make it better, but that wasn't going to happen. He didn't _have_ any information to trade for it, and if he looked at Dwalin too much he was afraid he would forget himself and try to crawl into the warrior's furs to hide.

And no one wanted that. No one wanted a needy child.

It was for the best if he didn't call attention to himself. He would take care of himself, somehow. He'd done it a time or two before, when he didn't have coin for a healer.

It would also be for the best if the Company didn't think he was useless because of his injury. It would be best if they didn't know how weak he was right now, be best if they didn't think he was a liability that they should leave behind, alone in the wild. They were already forgetting about him, which was for the best. He'd had a lifetime of practice at going unnoticed, and he'd always healed fast. He would be fine.

The world was a fog of pain but he would be fine.

Somehow.

“Erebor...” the word broke Nori out of his worried introspection, and he saw the Company looking East... and beyond them, the single peak of a mountain.

No, not just a mountain... _The_ Mountain. Erebor.

The place he might have been raised as the son of a kind and honorable warrior in peace and plenty, with his mother still alive... if it weren't for the Dragon.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nori... your brain is telling you things that are not to your benefit.  
> They are not true, not anymore.  
> Asking for help is ok.
> 
> Now with art that is beautiful and painful, courtesy of Inky  
> http://ofinkandquill.tumblr.com/post/58046718298/i-broke-during-chapter-12


	13. ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extra long chapter in which there are finally comforts to go with all those hurts. 
> 
>  
> 
> You should note that this fic is now tagged with 'past child abuse'. There are non-graphic discussions of shitty parenting, so beware.  
> I should maybe also warn for medical-ness, as the injured are patched back up, if that's squicky for you.

.

Nori was hiding.

There was so much going on, Thorin nearly killed by Azog for one, and the first sight of Erebor, the first of their lives for the younger Dwarves... and Nori's habit of being still and silent made him far too easy to overlook.

But that was no excuse. Dwalin _couldn't_ get the image of that whip coming down across Nori's back out of his mind, with Nori's eyes burning into him, and he _needed_ to see how bad it was. He _needed_ to make it better if he could... but Nori was hiding from everyone.

When the Company bathed in the ford at the base of the rock they'd been dropped on and Oin was fussing over Thorin's bruises and a Goblin bite Bilbo had gotten somewhere, Nori was not with them. Dwalin knew because he was _looking_ for him... he showed back up with the blood cleaned from his face and arms, sitting very still and silent at the edge of the group, only his hand moving as he stacked three little river rocks on top of each other.

When they were in Gandalf's friend Beorn's house, Nori was still avoiding everyone. There were stories told and food eaten and sleeping arrangements arranged, and the bizarrely intelligent animals were extremely distracting. Oin was checking everyone over for minor wounds and treating them, but _still_ Nori had managed not to be looked at. It seemed like even Dori was trying to get to Nori, whenever he noticed him, but Nori would not be cornered, and there was always _something else_ to capture everyone's attention away from the thief.

Even the skinchanger noticed. The massive man had drawn Dwalin aside, gesturing with a turn of his head toward Nori, who had tucked himself away in a corner and was slowly and carefully chewing on some honey bread, as though he had loosened teeth. Nori was too pale, his eyes glazed, and there was a stiffness in his stillness that said pain to Dwalin.

“He hides it.” Beorn said, “but I can _smell_ the blood.” he pressed a small wooden jar and some bandages into Dwalin's hands, “This will disinfect the wound and soothe the pain.”

“I'm not the healer...” Dwalin started, even as he clung to the little jar, and Beorn shook his head, glancing back to where Nori wasn't anymore, and Oin was looking around exasperatedly before noticing a scratch on Gloin and being distracted again.

“You smell of each other.” The skinchanger had said, placing one massive hand on Dwalin's shoulder briefly before leaving... and Dwalin wondered if _he_ made other people feel that comparatively small.

He did not like it.

It wasn't until the Company was bedding down, taking an early night, all crowded together in the skinchanger's big hall, that Dwalin finally managed to catch Nori.

He was in the kitchen, telling the bright-eyed dogs to get him hot water if they wouldn't just leave him _alone_ as he tried to take his torn undershirt off, whimpering in pain at the motion.

“Let me help.” Dwalin said, and Nori looked up at him wide-eyed, backing away a step.

“I'm fine.” He said, looking away, taking another step back.

“No, you're not.” Dwalin said, following him, reaching out to touch his too-pale cheek on an unbruised spot, “I _saw_ what they did. Let me help.”

Nori's eyes squeezed shut, his mouth turning down at the corners as he somehow managed to turn away from Dwalin's fingers while pressing into them harder.

“I... you don't have to because I don't _have_ any information for you and I'm _fine._..” Nori's voice was high, his words jittering out nervously, and Dwalin shushed him as gently as he could. He didn't know where he could touch the smaller Dwarf where it wouldn't hurt – but he risked putting a hand gently on his shoulder.

“I don't need anything in exchange, Nori. I _want_ to help... please?” he asked, and the smaller Dwarf had _never_ had a defense against gentleness. He took a sharp shuddering inward breath, as if he were about to sob, pressing his face hard against Dwalin's hand as he nodded, his eyes still closed tight.

Dwalin rubbed his fingers through the soft edges of Nori's hair, cradled the back of his head in his big killer's hand and _anyone_ else in the world would have reacted as though that were a threat – Nori relaxed into it, the lines of stress and pain around his eyes easing.

He guided Nori to the broad stone that was the hearth, lit dimly with the coals of the dying fire, sitting him down and getting a look at the back of his undershirt... it was stained with much more blood than Dwalin had expected, and it looked like it had stuck to his back as it dried. There wasn't going to be a way to take it off him without hurting him. Hot water to soften it would help though – he was beginning to look around for something he could use to heat water when one of the dogs put a small pot of steaming water beside him while another put another pot in the coals of the fire.

“...thank you.” He said, not sure about the etiquette of dealing with smart dogs. She wagged her tail and cocked her narrow head to the side.

“Some soft cloths would help.” he said, and she loped away.

Nori was shivering and leaning into Dwalin's hand where it still rested on his shoulder, unconsciously rubbing slow circles with his fingertips. He didn't stop. It wasn't _right_ that after all this time and all he'd done for them Nori couldn't ask for help, thought he had to give something in exchange.

“You're a member of this Company, and a friend.” Dwalin said, “We're not going to _abandon_ you, or leave you behind, and...” the dog had come back with cloths. He thanked her briefly and dampened one, laying it across Nori's back gently, but he still hissed in pain.

“You can _ask_ for what you need.” Dwalin continued, “None of us would turn you away.”

Nori didn't answer, and Dwalin let him keep his silence. He re-dampened the cloth twice before he tried to lift the bottom edge of Nori's undershirt.

Nori hissed again, and Dwalin could hear the edges of curses in it.

“Oin would cut the shirt off.” he said, dampening the cloth again and laying it over Nori's back “It would hurt less.”

“...don't have a spare.” Nori said, hands gripping tight on his knees and his back bowed.

Dwalin ran a finger carefully down Nori's side, along the seam of his shirt. “If I had a small, sharp knife, I could cut the seam... the shirt could be sewn back up.”

Nori had his razor in his hand... where he'd had it, Dwalin didn't know... he looked at it for a long moment – and then at Dwalin, his eyes lost, searching – and pressed it into his hand.

Dwalin took it, squeezing Nori's hand before he began carefully picking out the stitches that held Nori's undershirt together. He removed one sleeve, split down the same side, and opened from the shoulder to the neck... and then he was able to peel the undershirt off Nori's back.

“...hammers and _coal_...” Dwalin looked away, trying to breathe. He wasn't squeamish but... there were a few interrogators in Belegost prison who favored the whip. He had seen what they left behind – deep welts and heavy bruising and razor-thin cuts, different ratios depending on the whip and the interrogator's strength and technique. That's what he had been expecting.

This was not that, at all.

He hesitantly placed his hands on what he could of Nori's back, forced himself to look, tried to understand the deep ragged cuts, the skin torn from Nori's back in shreds.

“...how?..”

“They're Goblins.” Nori said, and he sounded _so_ tired.“There were bone shards through the tip of each strand of the whip.”

He hadn't _screamed_. They had done _this_ to him, and he hadn't... he hadn't even _blinked_.

The interrogators had never had a chance of breaking him, had they?.. and it twisted something sharp in the center of Dwalin's chest.

He cleaned Nori's back as gently as he could, while still getting it as clean as he could. At least the wounds having bled freely made it less likely he would get some horrible Goblin infection. Nori's chest was bruised from the timber that had trapped him, but his sides were mostly unhurt. Dwalin rested his free hand there, stroked the lean muscles over his ribs to soothe him and it seemed to work.

The dogs had taken Nori's blood-stained clothes and dumped them into a large bucket of cold water to soak, and one of them brought Dwalin a lamp.

He hadn't really felt the lack, but more light did make it easier to see fine details.

“I feel... like I should be confessing to something...” Nori gritted out. “It's... a good distraction...”

“What's the last thing you stole?” Dwalin asked, washing his cloth out again, gently stroking Nori's sides and shoulders, the back of his neck, the places he could be touched without hurting him.

“...the Hobbit's pipe-weed.” Nori answered. Dwalin paused briefly in surprise. He didn't _remember_ any time when Nori wasn't in his presence in Bilbo's Hobbit hole... unless he'd stolen it on the road?

“Why?” he asked.

“I was curious. They say there's three things Hobbits are good for. Food, and pipe-weed. The food was good, so I thought I'd try the pipe-weed.”

“That's only two things.” It did seem to be distracting Nori. He had to keep him talking.

“I wasn't interested in the third.” Nori said dismissively. “I don't tumble anyone without a beard.” He hissed in pain as Dwalin cleaned a particularly deep spot. “...ask me how. Or anything. Anything else, just _ask_.”

“How did you steal it?” Dwalin asked obediently, and listened to Nori tell the very simple tale of waiting until everyone fell asleep, then creeping out of a room full of sleeping warriors and into the Hobbit's pantry, stealing a bag of pipe-weed out of a barrel he'd spotted in the back of Bilbo's pantry, and creeping back in unheard. Considering that _he_ was one of those warriors, Dwalin was impressed by Nori's stealth.

“And where is it now?” Dwalin asked, the question he always asked of Nori when he'd stolen something. Sometimes Nori even answered.

“Lost with the ponies.” Nori said ruefully, “I never even had a _chance_ to try it.”

Dwalin put his cloth down. Nori's back was cleaned. One of the dogs took the cloth and the pot of water away, replacing it with fresh of both. It was less bad than it had looked at first, but it was still awful and raw.

“I should get Oin.” Dwalin said, “Some of this is going to have to be stitched.”

“No!” Nori gasped, “No... I... you can do it. You've done it before.”

“I don't have the supplies... and Oin's better at this.” Dwalin tried, but Nori was shaking his head vehemently. Dwalin _had_ sewn wounds shut before, on the battlefield where there was no one else to do it, and once in a prison cell when an interrogator had cut Nori deep in frustration, but his big killer's hands were not good for such delicate work. His stitches came out too big, the edges puckered and uneven.

One of the dogs put a leather-wrapped bundle on his knee... fine needles and silk thread. He ran one of the needles over the flame of the lamp to clean it, and threaded it carefully.

“I'm going to sew two places.” he told Nori, “Here to here... and here to here... are you _sure_ you don't want me to get Oin?”

At Nori's nod, Dwalin washed his hands one last time and began, pinching the wound closed and trying to keep his stitches small and even the way Oin had taught him so long ago.

“...ask me something?” Nori gritted out, and Dwalin asked the first thing that came to his mind.

“You were holding Dori in that tree. It fell, and he was slipping, and you were holding onto him. Why?” Nori was _this_ injured, and he'd chosen to try to save a Dwarf Dwalin had only ever seen be harsh and cold to him. He didn't really expect much of an answer. Nori _never_ spoke about himself.

“Because he was falling.” Nori said shortly. Dwalin rewarded him with a brief squeeze to his arm where it wasn't bruised... it was an automatic reaction, rewarding Nori for speaking when he clearly didn't want to.

“Do you think he'll come around now?” Dwalin asked.

Nori snorted in answer, and then spat out a quiet curse as Dwalin pulled a stitch tight. Dwalin paused for a moment, stroking Nori's shoulder and the back of his neck until he relaxed a little again.

“Dori will _never_ 'come around'.” Nori said, resigned, “there's nothing in the world I could do that would make him _not_ hate me... He broke my ribs one time, to convince me to stay away from Ori. He's _always_ hated me.”

Dwalin gave Nori's shoulder a squeeze in sympathy. He couldn't _imagine_ Balin raising a hand to him, not seriously. The thought of it was _painful_ , he didn't know _what_ he would do if Balin ever tried to hurt him.

“Always?” he asked, because he remembered Dori saying...

“...no, not always.” Nori said, “When I was very small, I remember he would mind me while our mother was working. It was... fun. We were _happy_ , I think. I was very small.”

Dwalin fastened off his thread. It wasn't up to Oin's standards, but it wasn't his worst. The edges were mostly flat and even, at least. He moved on to the second, cupping his palm over the side of Nori's face for a moment, the smaller Dwarf rubbed his face against it like a cat... and Dwalin knew it ought to be strange, but they had danced this dance so many times. It was different now, Nori was a friend, but still Dwalin could offer him some small comfort, and Nori trusted his hands not to hurt him, and spoke when Dwalin touched him.

“What changed?” Dwalin asked, and Nori hesitated. Dwalin rubbed his side.

“Thjofr took me.” Nori finally answered, hesitantly, “The Dwarf who sired me... he wanted someone small and quick to work for him, so he took me.”

Dwalin reached out with his thumb to rub an undamaged part of Nori's back briefly before continuing, forcing his clumsy fingers to be as precise as possible as he drew the needle through Nori's torn skin.

“ _Took_ you? How?” he asked. If there had _ever_ been a report of a child kidnapped in New Belegost the entire settlement would have been turned upside down.

Nori looked down at his hands, clenched tight on his knees, and Dwalin was almost certain he wasn't going to answer. He'd already said far more than Dwalin had ever expected to hear him say about himself.

“I was a _child_.” he finally said. There was bitterness in that word, as though being young were a bad thing, “He fed me sweets, and told me I wouldn't have to go to school... I _asked_ to go with him. I _begged_ like the spoiled _child_ I was.” Nori sneered, “He _said_ I could go home whenever I wanted.”

Dwalin wasn't sure he could trust himself to say anything. He finished the final stitch as carefully as he could.

“...he got tired of listening to me cry for my mother, and...” Nori broke off, took a deep breath, “...I learned to be quiet.” he finished.

Dwalin snipped the silk thread and rubbed Nori's shoulder as soothingly as he could as he inspected his work... not quite as even as the first one, but still not his worst. He still couldn't trust himself to say anything, because right now he wanted to kill Thjofr and Nori would not take it well if he started shouting. He had to stay calm, or he doubted Nori would let him continue to help him.

He discarded the last of the thread on his needle and ran it through the lamp's flame again before putting it back in the case it came from. He pried open the little wooden jar of salve Beorn had given him. He began to dab it gently on Nori's injuries.

“When he _finally_ let me visit, they didn't want me anymore... Dori made that clear. He hated _Thjofr,_ and after Thjofr took me he hated _me_.” Nori shivered at the salve, “...but it was for the best. It _was._ My mother had the dragon cough, ash in her lungs, she couldn't always work and she didn't need the burden. It was for the best.”

...how many times had he told himself that? And _Dori_...

Dwalin finished treating Nori's back. He dampened a cloth in the hot water and moved to Nori's front. Nori had already cleaned his own face, but Dwalin was always thorough. He cradled the side of Nori's face in his hand as he worked. Nori's eyes closed and he made a soft sound, like a sigh of contentment as he leaned into it. Dwalin worked his way down Nori's arms and chest, cleaning him and putting the salve anywhere he was injured. He wrapped bandages carefully around the smaller Dwarf's torso, to keep the wounds on his back clean and protected.

“I think...” Dwalin started, tried to make sure he had the words right, he was no Balin but he could _try_ , “You might be one of the bravest and strongest Dwarves I know. I would be _proud_ to call you family, if you were my kin.”

He could _feel_ Nori's eyes staring at him as he picked up his hand to begin bandaging the split and bruised knuckles.

“...But I'm _not_ brave...” Nori started, and Dwalin looked up at him, _dared_ him to finish that sentence.

“You _knew_ what the Goblins were going to do, and you protected Ori... you protected us all.” Dwalin picked up Nori's second hand, treating it the same way.

“But I _wasn't_ brave. I was _so scared_... it was worse than the first time I had to pick pockets. It was worse than a tremor in the bad rock. It was worse... it was worse than the first time I was interrogated.”

Dwalin could remember that, ferocious kid with all that wild red hair everywhere, too angry to be broken.

“You never break.” he said, “You were just a _kid_ but you never broke, no matter what they did.” He put his hand on the side of Nori's head, the way he'd done, pressed just slightly. Nori turned and nuzzled into his hand, the same as he'd done, but without the crying.

“They told you to _kill_ me.” Nori said into his palm, “I was so scared but... you _never_ hurt me... and then I couldn't _ever_ break because if I broke they wouldn't...” he glanced between Dwalin's fingers, meeting his eye, “...they wouldn't send _you_.”

It was a blow to the gut – all that fighting, and all that pain he endured whenever he was arrested, because Nori was waiting for _him_. Nori reached toward him with one bandaged hand, stopped, drew it quickly back to his knee, closing his eye and looking away from Dwalin.

Dwalin caught his fleeing hand, brought it toward his shoulder. “If you want, you _can_.” he gave permission.

Nori buried his fingers in Dwalin's furs... and just _crumpled_ , collapsing against Dwalin's chest with a deep shuddering breath that seemed like it should have lead to tears but didn't. He grabbed onto Dwalin tight, pulling himself into his lap, his face hidden against Dwalin's neck.

“Nori...” Dwalin held onto him as much as he could without risking hurting him, his shoulder and his hip, pulled him closer.

Nori was alone, in the Company. Everyone else had their kin to keep them company, to comfort them if they were hurt, but Nori had been rejected by his. He was alone. Dwarves were never _meant_ to be alone.

 _How long_ had he been alone?

“I _know_ I shouldn't, I just... I...” Nori was mumbling against Dwalin's neck. He moved his hand to the back of Nori's head, rubbed his cheek against what he could reach of Nori's soft red-brown hair.

“You can _ask_ for what you need, there's not shame in it.” Dwalin said, holding onto the only Dwarf in the world who believed he would never hurt him, trying to offer comfort to the only Dwarf who wanted that from him. “You can ask. None of us would turn you away... _I_ would never turn you away...”

He blinked hard, eyes sweeping the darkened kitchen, wishing he were better at this, and...

Dori was standing in the doorway, tears shining on his pretty cheeks... _how long_ had he been listening there? His eyes met Dwalin's.

He _should not be here_. This was _not_ for him, he had not _earned_ this trust. Dwalin pulled Nori closer, held him tighter. He always _tried_ to keep his anger in check, tried to never lash out in rage, he _knew_ how badly that could end for him, but right now he wanted _nothing_ more than to put his fist into Dori's face until he saw blood. He couldn't touch Thjofr, but _Dori_ was right here, and he'd driven Nori away – driven him to _this_.

Dori blanched, his eyes widening as he took a step back. He must have seen a little of Dwalin's thoughts on his face but not _enough_ because he was still _there_ , was still looking at them.

“Leave. NOW!” Dwalin signed behind Nori's back, baring his teeth in a smile that usually only Orcs and Wargs saw, and not for long, and finally Dori fled back to the skinchanger's main hall.

Nori's fingers were digging into Dwalin hard, almost painful through his furs. Dwalin hoped he wasn't hurting himself by pressing so hard against his chest.

“...even if...” Nori mumbled against Dwalin's neck, “...I asked you to kiss me?”

“Aye.” Dwalin answered, rubbing his cheek against Nori's hair again. “Gladly.” He didn't think there was _anything_ Nori could ask for right now he wouldn't give him.

Nori shifted his grip on Dwalin, burrowing into his furs like he wanted to hide in them with a small whimper.

Dwalin held him, held him as much as he could without hurting him, he didn't know how long, with the warmth of the dying fire beside them, and the dogs lying by the door, and everything still and quiet.

Nori leaned back from him slightly eventually, looking at him with his expression unguarded – tired and wary and in pain – his eyes flicking from Dwalin's mouth to his eyes... it was probably the closest he would get to actually _asking_.

Dwalin leaned forward slightly, and Nori met him. He let Nori set the pace, and it was slow like the first time. Gentle press of lips, the soft slide of Nori's tongue that he answered, the smaller Dwarf's breath warm against his face. Dwalin cradled the back of Nori's head, fingers working into his silk-soft hair, pulling him close with the other hand on his hip.

Nori kissed slow and gentle and _relentless_ , endless... he would not have thought there was any heat in it, but the way Nori was holding onto him, pulling him closer, already pressed against him, sitting in his lap... the achingly hungry little moan in his throat as he sucked on Dwalin's bottom lip... the way he was kissing as though there were nothing else in the world before or after and he'd would get lost in it and never emerge again...

...and that sounded good to Dwalin, kiss slow and hold him, explore every inch of his skin just as slow and press into him to rock together and know every part of each other inside and out...

Dwalin drew back, and Nori briefly chased after his mouth before jerking back, eyes as wide as a frightened rabbit as he tensed.

“That was... that was good.” Dwalin tried to reassure him, “I was enjoying it... _too much_ and you're injured...”

Nori nodded, and Dwalin leaned forward to kiss him one last time, warm breath between lips and just the softest touch of skin against skin.

“Maybe someday I'll kiss you when you're not injured...” He lifted Nori from his lap, and the lean Dwarf went easily.

“We should try to sleep.” Dwalin added. He looked at Nori's shirts, all shoved into a bucket to soak the stains away. “...you don't have a spare shirt...”

“I'll wring one out.” Nori said, reaching for one.

“No.” Dwalin said, catching his hand, “you'll soak your bandages and you'll get cold... here.” He shrugged out of his furs and his tunic, dropping the tunic over Nori's head.

It was huge on him.

“We'll deal with your shirts in the morning.” he said, trying not to laugh as Nori rolled the tunic's sleeves up so his hands weren't covered, looking too much like a little Darrow trying to dress up in his parent's clothes.

“Maybe you can borrow one from Kili... he's about your size.” Dwalin added, and Nori nodded, sticking beside him in that space he'd gotten so used to him taking as they quietly rejoined the Company resting in the main hall.

Dori appeared to be asleep along with everyone else, lying with Ori and the princes to one side, and Balin and Oin and Gloin on the other.

Dwalin let Nori settle onto the last mattress first, get himself as comfortable as he could with his injuries, before he took his place beside him, no different than when they'd shared a bed in Rivendell – no different than when they set their bedrolls up near each other in the wilds – except that Nori, who always slept wrapped up tight, had reached one hand out, just a little over halfway across the mattress. His eyes flicked from it, to Dwalin, and then closed.

Dwalin reached out and covered Nori's smaller hand with his own, seeing Nori relax.

“You can _ask_.” he whispered, but Nori didn't answer, and it had been a _long_ few days, and the mattress was soft, and he slept.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon, Beorn's dogs are Scottish Deerhounds  
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scottish_Deerhound
> 
> Now with art courtesy of the ever-wonderful Mia-Newarcher  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/58647298278/scene-from-touch-by-thorinsmut
> 
> And even more art by the lovely Sparkle!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/96467325283/scene-from-touch-probably-my-very-favorite-nwalin  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/96468122088/at-beorns-dwalin-gave-nori-his-shirt-because-all  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/96469334013/last-part-of-the-chapter-13-drawings-you-really


	14. mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dori gets some mending done.

.

Dori sat in the kitchen near the hearth and sewed as the sun rose. Having something to do with his hands had always made thinking easier, and that thief's...

No. 

_Nori's_ shirts had been _right there_ , hanging near the fire to dry, and one of the dogs brought him needle and thread when he asked – he would never get used to that. 

He hadn't _meant_ to listen in, the night before, but he'd heard his own name, Nori saying that there was nothing in the world he could do that would make Dori not hate him... and then he'd _seen_ that Dwalin was literally sewing Nori together, the deep ragged gashes across his back. 

The Goblin king had been pointing right at Ori, and Nori had made a target of himself without an instant's hesitation... and that was the price he'd paid for it.

Dori had seen gruff Dwalin, whom everyone knew could and _would_ accidentally kill you, tending to Nori with gentle affection. He'd seen the cold wary thief who who never let anyone touch him nuzzling into Dwalin's hands, and he'd seen the reflection of a sweet laughing little brother who'd _always_ wanted to cuddle. 

Dori smoothed out Nori's undershirt, the seams stitched back up and the places the Goblins had torn it mended. He was no tailor, but this kind of simple sewing was easy enough. The back of the undershirt was going to be stained forever – despite having been soaked and washed. 

He'd been falling out of the tree, his grip the only thing keeping both himself and Ori from falling to their deaths, and Nori's arms had wrapped around his, had held him _hard_. 

How badly must that have _hurt?_

Dori put the shirt down and began on the next, carefully repairing the ripped fabric. 

Nori had been cursing the entire time... he was a coarse, foul Dwarf. He was a thief. He'd broken their mother's heart going off with his sire.

If his story was to be believed, Nori's heart had been broken too. He _had_ been a child, just a child, and he'd been betrayed. He had _learned_ that wary silence. 

And the cursing... 

Dori put the shirt down and started on Nori's jacket. 

Before the quest, the cursing was all Dori knew of Nori. He sneered and cursed, and Dori tried to keep him away from Ori. He cursed when Trolls strung him up over a fire... and he cursed when Goblins grabbed him, and tore his shirt down, and shredded his back with a whip... 

And Dwalin had been rumbling 'he never breaks', and Nori had told Thorin that _he_ was the only one of the Company who knew how to deal with it, and the night before Nori and Dwalin had been speaking about how Nori never broke. 

Nori had been tortured before, more than once, starting when he was young... by the _guard_ , by Dwarves who were supposed to be _honorable_. 

And he had the same reaction to Dori that he did to Goblins... because, since their mother's passing, Dori had never seen Nori without trying to do him harm. He'd just been trying to protect _Ori_ , he _couldn't_ let the same thing happen to Ori that had to Nori... 

...if Dori hadn't been so angry, maybe Nori _wouldn't_ have stayed with Thjofr... 

Dori blinked the tears quickly from his eyes, looking down at the repaired jacket. There was no use mourning the past. There was nothing he could do for it now. 

The dogs were beginning to start cooking breakfast – Dori would _never_ get used to them – and he still had some thread leftover. He picked up Nori's shirt, and began carefully embroidering his crest onto it – smiling a little as he remembered how excited Nori had been to design it with their mother. 

Nori had cut him loose first from over the Troll's fire – and he hadn't asked for anything. He'd taken a terrible injury for Ori and he hadn't asked for anything, and he'd held onto Dori in a falling tree surrounded by fire _despite_ that injury, and more than not asking for anything he'd actively hidden that he was so hurt. 

He expected nothing. 

He was not _Thjofr_ , who always expected to be repaid for anything he could take credit for, who would not do the smallest thing without adding it up in the ledger in his head. 

Thjofr would never have put himself in harm's way to protect _anyone_. 

Dori would never have imagined it of Nori either... but he was _not_ so proud he couldn't admit he'd been wrong to think that Nori was just like Thjofr. 

Dori fastened off his thread and folded the shirt, stacking it neatly with the others. 

He had seen, just a glimpse, of _Nori_ , the mithril-bright brother he'd lost so long ago. He had seen a Dwarf who ached in the very stone of his soul, a Dwarf who needed a family – and Dori had likely undermined that bridge long ago, but he could at least try to get them on better terms. 

Dori gave the needle and thread back to the dog with thanks, and she wagged her tail at him. No, no he would never get used to that. He picked up the repaired clothes, took a deep breath, and went to see if Nori was awake yet. 

Many of the Company were still sleeping, Ori had migrated into a pile with Fili and Kili that did _not_ look comfortable but seemed to be working for them, but Nori was already up. Dwalin was still sleeping, which was a relief. Dori had not forgotten the look he'd given him the night before – a reminder that Dwalin _might_ be tenderly cradling Nori in his lap, but he was _still_ the Dwarf who might accidentally (or maybe not _so_ accidentally) kill you. 

Dori found Nori sitting in the sun on the front step, looking childlike in Dwalin's oversized tunic, and watched unseen from the doorway while he lost an argument with one of the dogs about whether or not he was drinking a mug of bitter-smelling tea. It was impressive, considering the fact that the dog couldn't _talk_ and had to communicate her intent with tail-wags and head-tilting. 

Nori handed the empty mug back and informed the dog that he would not be drinking _any_ more of that, and she loped away with it. Dori had the feeling she would have laughed at Nori if she could. 

Dori sat beside Nori, who tensed everywhere at the sight of him – like a cat arching up with its fur on end. Dori handed him his shirts, and he took them as though he expected Dori were going to pull a knife on him. 

It was _so easy_ to look at him and see Thjofr - thin face and those overgrown eyebrows – but he wasn't. He wasn't at all, just as Dori wasn't the mother who's early-silver hair he'd inherited. 

“I don't know you.” Dori said, “I thought I did, but I was wrong. I wanted to apologize... and thank you, for _everything_... and...” Dori faltered briefly in the face of Nori's blank non-reaction. 

“And I know it's _very_ late in the game for it, but I hoped we could start over. Nori.” Dori offered his hand to Nori, met the younger Dwarf's eye. 

If he hadn't been injured, Dori had the feeling Nori would have stood up and walked away. He drew back, winced slightly, and seemed to reconsider moving away. 

Dori waited. If Nori said no he would have to respect that. Dori _had_ hurt him enough over the years, had tried to disown him and take his name. 

Nori looked away, over the skinchanger's gardens, took a deep breath, and then looked back, a line of confusion between his brows. 

“Dori.” He greeted finally, clasping Dori's hand. Dori gave it a firm squeeze before releasing it. 

He sat just a little longer, but Nori was still tense beside him... he was not entirely easy with Nori either, they were hardly more than strangers to each other, still. 

He paused at the door before he went back in to search for some breakfast – Nori sitting on the step in the sunlight in Dwalin's big tunic, running his fingertips over Dori's stitchwork on his repaired shirts as he looked over the skinchanger's garden, his big hair all in disarray. 

Reaching _up_ to do his hair would probably be agony, with his back in the state it was... he needed kin to help him care for it. Dori looked to where Ori was beginning to work his way out of the young-Dwarf pile, despite Kili's sleepy protests.

He would have to encourage Ori to do it. 

It might be too late for Dori, but Ori had always been on good terms with Nori. They would be _brothers_ in an instant now that Dori wasn't standing in the way. 

And that would be a good thing.  


. 


	15. it was a fortunate day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's guide to conversation: Open mouth, insert foot. 
> 
> Aka, one last short chapter of sadness reprieve before we head to Mirkwood.

.

Thorin found Nori sitting in the grass, sharpening his knives as he watched several of the Company spar, and sat beside him. Nori nodded to him in greeting, and went back to watching Oin and Gloin face off against Bofur and Bombur.

With Azog and Eagles and Skinchangers, with his own injuries and making sure Bilbo's Goblin-bite didn't fester, it had been too easy to forget about Nori. He had not sought treatment from Oin, and Thorin had assumed it meant the Goblins had not wounded him, or not badly.

He'd been discussing leaving, planning how much the Company was going to have to carry, when Dwalin leaned down close to his ear.

“Not everyone is in shape to carry a pack.” He'd said quietly, and Thorin had bristled. He might be _bruised_ from the Warg's bite, but he was still more than _capable_. When he'd said as much, Dwalin had given him a _look –_ one Thorin remembered very well from his youth, that said Dwalin thought his young cousin was being _intentionally_ dense – and gestured with a slight turn of his head and a flick of his eyes toward Nori.

The thief had been talking quietly with Ori, and for once Dori had been calmly going about his business instead of glaring and huffing at them. He was glad to see _that_ rift in the Company closing. Thorin looked back to Dwalin, questioning, and Dwalin had continued... quiet enough that no one else would be able to hear.

“There were bone shards in the Goblin's whip... I sewed him up myself.” Dwalin had thrown a concerned glance toward Nori, and Thorin remembered Nori's wild cursing and the laughter of the Goblins... and Nori snarling that it was better _him_ than Fili and Kili.

“Has Oin seen...” Thorin started, but Dwalin shook his head... but that should not have surprised him. Nori was an intensely _private_ Dwarf, so of course he would not show anyone but the Dwarf he had grown closest to – despite their shared past. The friendship that had developed between them had surprised Thorin, but it seemed to be good for Dwalin.

Thorin had accepted Dwalin's word on Nori's condition and set back his plans to leave by two weeks, with Beorn's permission.

It had taken a little time to find Nori where he could talk with him alone, but he'd managed it. Bofur and Bombur were holding their own surprisingly well in their sparring match against Oin and Gloin.

“Dwalin says you can't carry a pack.” Thorin said.

“I can pull my weight.” Nori broke in sharply, before Thorin could finish... and that was probably not the _best_ beginning to the conversation... _where_ was Dis when he needed her? _She_ would never have made that mistake. What would she say to fix things?

“It is not weakness to admit an injury.” he said, hoping his tone was reassuring. Nori gave him a calculating look, but nodded slightly.

“I had my doubts when Dwalin spoke for you.” Thorin admitted, “I could not see what you might add to my Company, and I did not trust you. That is the reason I assigned him to you.”

Nori was still as a stone, looking out at the sparring Dwarves, hardly even breathing.

“You _knew_ that cave in the mountains was not safe.” Thorin said. Nori had shared _twice_ that something was not right, and he'd dismissed it... and for that they'd been taken by Goblins and only escaped through luck and a wizard's sense of timing. Nori himself had paid for it the most dearly.

“And when the Goblins took us...” Thorin continued, shaking his head, “There _should_ have been another way.” as the leader of their Company it was his responsibility to keep his people safe, that Nori had turned himself over to the Goblins to protect everyone meant he had failed.

“You have _more_ than proven yourself.” Thorin told him, he would have put a hand on his shoulder but he wasn't sure if he was injured there, and Nori did not like to be touched regardless, “It was a fortunate day when you joined my Company.”

Nori blinked quickly, the look he gave Thorin a question.

“Heal well.” Thorin said, rising to leave, “I think we will _all_ enjoy the time to rest and recover before we face Mirkwood.”

Nori hesitated before bowing slightly, stiff from his injuries, and Thorin nodded and returned to Beorn's house. There was planning to be done... but first he had to make sure Kili didn't break the scribe, as he was currently attempting to teach Ori grappling with much more enthusiasm than sense - as he did most things.

“Kili!” he warned, and the younger prince carefully righted a red-faced Ori, expression sheepish.

Thorin sighed, shaking his head. There was never a dull moment.

.


	16. that empty space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood begins.  
> It's not such a bad beginning.

.

It had been too eerily quiet under the dark of the overgrowing trees during the day, and now it was too loud at night, with the sound of strange animals none of them could name. After only one day in Mirkwood, Nori was confident in saying he hated it.

Nori leaned back against a tree and wrapped himself tight in his blanket, watching the Company in the meager light of the smoky fire that was the best they could make from the materials at hand.

Everyone was huddling up with their families. Fili and Kili had clearly tried to make it seem like their bedrolls _just happened_ to be nearly on top of Thorin's. Oin and Gloin were sitting leaning against each other's backs, Bifur Bofur and Bombur had added Bilbo to their group by asking him about Hobbit cooking and tucking him between Bofur and Bombur... not that he seemed at all unhappy about his placement. Balin and Dwalin were sitting with just their shoulders touching, and Nori briefly eyed the empty space beside Dwalin's other shoulder before looking away.

Dwalin had indulged him while he was injured, but it would be best not to push it.

The weeks of recovery in the skinchanger's house had been... surprising. Dwalin had said nothing about the pathetic _need_ Nori had been too hurt and tired to hide from him. He'd given Nori what he wanted, and hadn't treated him any differently afterward. Dwalin had changed Nori's bandages every night, keeping his back clean and treated, rough warm hands touching him sure and gentle, like...

Like _nothing_ else.

Nori pressed his fingertips into his ribs, where he was holding his blanket tight around himself, where Dwalin's big hand had rested as the fingers of his other hand traced the tender new-healed skin of Nori's back.

He'd praised the scars, tracing over them in patterns as he spoke about decorating them with tattoos.

Warrior's scars, he'd called them.

Dwalin touched Nori more than he _had_ to to tend his wounds, the way he always had – and once he was mostly healed and no longer in pain, Nori's body began to have ideas about that.

Not that Dwalin touched like a lover, because he _didn't_. His touch had no heat, no discernible _goal_ other than just _touching_... but Nori still could not stop imagining those hands running over his skin with _intent_ , imagining being held against that broad chest with nothing between them, and... and his imagination failed, because he could not picture how Dwalin would want to go about it. It wouldn't be the hurried businesslike exchanges Nori usually had, he was sure, but he wasn't sure what it would be like instead. Even the way he _kissed_ was different, when Nori had begged for that though he shouldn't have, it was slow and confident and so _close_ that Nori had wanted to hide in it forever, never wanted it to end. He'd been in so much pain at the time it hadn't registered sexually at all, not until days afterward.

Nori was almost disappointed when he was healed enough he didn't need Dwalin's help, when he no longer had that excuse to be touched and held... but he _was_ glad he was healed up. He hated feeling useless. _Weak_. Thorin had given him time, but he wouldn't wait forever. He would have gotten impatient eventually... as it was, Nori was glad he'd had an extra week to heal after they left before he had to carry a pack, as Beorn's ponies carried them to the edge of Mirkwood.

Nori had been _so sure_ Thorin was dismissing him from the Company when he'd come to talk to him. It almost hadn't registered when the King had instead _thanked_ him.

The stay at Beorn's _had_ been surprising, in more ways than one. Nori's eyes drifted past where Thorin was trying to get his sister-sons to settle to where Ori seemed to be drifting off to sleep with his head on Dori's shoulder.

Nori touched the stitching of Dori's neat mending on his shirt.

It was so strange to have his mother's eldest son no longer trying to be his enemy, treating him like any other Dwarf of the Company. Dori had been true to his word, since that morning when he _spoke Nori's name_ , when he granted him what he'd tried to take away.

Dori wasn't trying to keep Ori away from him anymore, which had made Ori much more affectionate toward Dori... such a _sweet_ lad, Ori.

Dori had sent him to try to help Nori with his hair, in the first few days when it was too painful to do himself, and Nori couldn't help a brief smile at the memory.

His hair was not _that_ complicated. It only took a few minutes to do it... but the three easy peaks had utterly eluded Ori. They'd both ended up laughing as his hair came out lopsided and crooked over and over, until they'd given up and Ori had instead placed it in a long braid down his back.

It had felt good to have someone do that for him. He'd never really had kin to brush his hair for him after Thjofr took him, and it had been decades since he'd had a lover he'd shared that much with... it was never safe to trust anyone with more than necessary, especially another thief who might get caught and forced to betray everything they knew... and who but a thief would risk being with a thief? It had been unusual and _nice_ , comfortable, to have someone help him with his hair, even if Ori couldn't get the knack of Nori's peaks.

Dwalin had seemed to like his braid, stroking his hand down it, wrapping it briefly around his broad palm, before he gently swept it over his shoulder to treat his back, fingers brushing the nape of Nori's neck, and he'd been in enough pain at the time he hadn't realized until days later what an intimate touch it had been.

...and his thoughts had led him back around to Dwalin again, to the empty space by Dwalin's side where there was more than enough room for another Dwarf to rest.

Nori wrapped his blanket around himself tighter, as tight as it would go.

Dwalin had indulged him when he was injured, but he didn't _have_ that excuse anymore. The stay at Beorn's house had been strange and surprising – he'd woken up more than once curled up flush against Dwalin in the big bed, one of the warrior's big arms thrown across him, and hadn't been sure _which_ of them had started it – but things went back to normal once they were on the road again. Nori kept near Dwalin, where he'd gotten so used to being, but not _too_ close.

Nori tried to block out the sounds of the unknowable animals out in the dark, and the feel of the oppressive weight of the looming trees in the darkness.

His entire body twitched with a startle as a distant scream echoed out of the woods, and Dwalin sighed, leaning over to grab Nori and drag him to the space beside him.

Nori was proud he hadn't yelped, complying mostly out of surprise as Dwalin arranged him into the empty space at his side.

No one seemed surprised, or was looking at them as though they thought it was strange, and Nori relaxed against Dwalin's solid shoulder.

“You can _ask_.” Dwalin murmured to him.

He said that, over and over, but... _no one_ wanted that. Nori would take what he gave, but he _wouldn't_ be a needy _child_ to ask and ask and ask until Dwalin got tired of listening to him whine.

Nori _did_ lean a little harder against Dwalin's shoulder, and the forest seemed a little less dangerous... like maybe he _would_ be able to sleep.

“You're too heavy for my old bones.” Dori said, shrugging Ori's head off his shoulder, nudging him away, “Go lay on your brother.”

Nori focused on breathing normally, hoping that no one could see on his face that it had cut him into his heart. After _so many years_... Dori was letting Ori be a _brother_ to him, trusting Nori with that kind of claim on their mother's youngest – the brother who was more of a son to Dori, the mithril of his heart...

Ori rubbed his eyes, “...but I want _both_ my brothers.” he said, grabbing Dori's hand and hauling him after him as he settled on Nori's free side, leaning against him as though they'd been brothers his whole life, pulling Dori down on his other side.

Nori met Dori's eyes, seeing an echo of his own uncertainty and surprise there. Ori sighed happily, wedged between them. Dori shrugged and settled himself comfortably, closing his eyes.

Nori lay his head on Dwalin's shoulder, and Ori, his _brother_ , leaned on his other side, and he rested.

And he almost didn't hate Mirkwood.

.


	17. screaming in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we reach the Elf King's dungeons, and everything is terrible.  
> Really. Read with caution. 
> 
> Warning for ptsd nightmares and feelings of hopelessness and helplessness.

.

Dwalin woke up to the sound of Nori screaming, “Go fuck the maggots in a dead Warg's eyeball!”

“Nori!” he shouted through the bars of his cell, but he wasn't heard.

“ _Nori!”_ he hit the bars, but they didn't budge, and Nori kept cursing. Out of sight, but not so far away.

Dwalin hit the bars again as Nori gave a wordless scream of pain.

He was _so_ far away.

A week.

Nori had lasted a week in the Elf's dungeon before he succumbed to his dreams. Dwalin would be willing to bet he hadn't had a full night of sleep in all that time, that he'd wrapped himself tight in his blankets and hidden himself in a corner the way he did back in the palace in New Belegost before they moved to a room he could escape if he needed to.

Then, when his body _wouldn't_ stay awake any longer, he fell asleep and the dreams had him – but this time Dwalin wasn't there to wake him up and let him know it wasn't real, that it was over.

Dwalin threw himself against the unyielding bars as Nori screamed curses, all rage and pain, and the thief _never_ knew when to stop fighting, did he? They'd all been in such poor shape by the time the Elves captured them, thirsty and starving and spider-poisoned, but Nori had still struggled and cursed at the Elves the entire time they split the Company apart. Dwalin himself hadn't had the heart for it, had collapsed into his cell and clung to the water the Elves had provided – sweet sweet beautiful _water_ – when they'd dragged Nori past, kicking with the last of his strength and cursing breathlessly through his dehydration-split lips and his eyes wide open, seeing and cataloging everything. Even _then_ Nori had been making plans.

Bilbo hadn't been caught, and Nori had been helping him figure a way out for all of them, from what Dwalin gathered by talking to the Hobbit. Nori had been teaching him how to draw maps and memorize guard rounds, and knowing Nori's skill at that, Dwalin knew they'd get out.

They had to.

He'd dared hope they would get out before Nori's dreams caught him.

Nori screamed again, the way he _never_ did when he was being interrogated no matter how bad it got, and Dwalin threw his shoulder against the bars of his cell with all his weight, all his _strength_ behind it.

“Nori!” he shouted again, not really hoping he would be _heard_ but he had to _try_.

He couldn't just listen and do _nothing_ , not from _any_ of the Company but especially not Nori. Not Nori.

Nori who stuck close to Dwalin in the endless dusk of Mirkwood. He still wouldn't _ask_ for anything _,_ but near the end had gotten to the point where Nori would just hesitate slightly, waiting for Dwalin's nod of invitation, before he settled in beside him. It had been a comfort to have Nori at his side, at the end, when everything was the ache of hunger and the burn of thirst.

“You don't have to ask.” Dwalin had told him, their shoulders pressed together in the dark, “for just _this_ , you don't even have to ask.” Nori had leaned harder on him in answer, but he'd still always waited for an invitation.

Nori who never asked for anything, _especially_ not from his kin, no matter how badly it was clear he wanted to, who reacted as if he'd been given a gift too priceless for words whenever Ori leaned against him, or gave him a hug. The only evenings Nori didn't spend beside Dwalin were the ones when Ori had grabbed him and kept him with him and Dori, and sometimes Fili and Kili.

Nori's cursing was rising in pitch and desperation, and Dwalin wrapped his hands around one of his cell bars, throwing himself against it with all his weight. It was _so easy_ to help Nori, and he was _helpless_. What was the _point_ of being too big and too strong if he wasn't _strong enough_ to get to Nori when he needed him?

In the skinchanger's house, Nori had started to have bad dreams – being locked in at night, maybe, or maybe the aftermath of what the Goblins had done to him – but a single touch was all it took when he started to twitch and breathe too fast. A single touch and he would burrow against Dwalin and relax into calm sleep, without even waking up.

That was all it _took_ and Dwalin _couldn't_. He wrenched on the bar of his cell until it cut into his palms – big killer's hands that were not strong enough, not good enough. Not strong enough to get to the _one_ Dwarf he could help. Three times not strong enough to save his King – not Thror, not Thrain, not Thorin lost to die somewhere out in Mirkwood alone.

Too strong and dangerous to ever be trusted, and not strong enough.

Nori's cursing was growing ragged, wild in short bursts interspersed with silence that was somehow _worse_. Was he _breathing_?

It wasn't right. It wasn't _right_ that Nori should have to scream himself out alone.

Dwalin launched himself against the unyielding bars again.

“Nori!” He shouted, but it wasn't enough. Nori couldn't hear him. He couldn't _do anything_.

“It wasn't me!” Nori shrieked desperately, broken, “I didn't do it!” no no no, Nori never broke. He didn't break, not Nori. Nori who could still smile at Ori and give him his last share of the food when they were starving. Not Nori who pressed his knives into the Company's hands and faced the spiders with nothing but his little razor and his rage, half-dead from poison and starvation and _never_ giving up. Nori with his bravery marked across his back, shuddering under Dwalin's hands as he traced the new skin with his fingertips, lean and flexible and _so strong_ in _every_ way, with his long red-brown hair in a braid like a waterfall of silk.

Not Nori. Nori _couldn't_ break. He was _Dwalin's charge_. Dwalin was supposed to keep him _safe._

Dwalin slammed himself against the bars as Nori screamed again and again, his shoulder throbbing from hitting the bars.

“ _Dwalin!”_ Nori screamed, and Dwalin threw himself across his cell with a wordless bellow, hitting the bars with everything he _had_ behind it, and they did not budge.

He slumped to the floor in the ringing silence that followed, stared down at his battered hands.

Big, killer's hands.

Too strong, and never strong enough.

.

“Let me go to him.” Dwalin asked the guard the next night, as they passed on the night round, “I know how to help him. Let me help him!” the Elf looked at him curiously, but did not pause.

“At least wake him up!” Dwalin shouted after them, cursing as he threw himself against the bars, ignoring the throbbing of his bruises.

He heard the Elf shouting something in their damn twittering bird language.

Nori didn't stop cursing and screaming.

.

“Please let me help him. _Please_.” Dwalin begged.

The Elf who did the night rounds didn't even turn their head to look at him, anymore.

“You're _monsters!_ All of you, monsters!” Dwalin shouted after them.

Nori's hoarse screams wouldn't _stop_.

.

“Are they _hurting_ you?” The Hobbit's concerned voice asked. Dwalin wouldn't ever get used to talking to someone invisible. “Because, everyone else is getting better, recovering, but Nori's just been getting _worse_ , and now you...”

Dwalin sighed, rubbing his face with his battered hands, “They don't have to _do_ anything to hurt Nori.” he said. No, the Elves didn't have to _touch_ Nori to hurt him. _His own people_ had already hurt him.

“It won't get better until we're out.” Dwalin said.

“Soon.” Bilbo said, “Soon, they've got a big celebration, and I think we might have a chance...”

“Just get us _out_.” Dwalin said, and if his tone was too close to begging, he couldn't care.

.

“Dwalin!”

Dwalin woke instantly at the hissed word, to see _Nori_ huddled against the bars of his cell.

“Nori, how?..” Dwalin rushed to the bars, reached his fingers through them to touch Nori's sunken cheek, seeing the deep hollows around the smaller Dwarf's eyes, his eyes wild, pupils wide, breathing in sharp panicked gasps.

Nori rubbed his cheek against Dwalin's fingers, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I can't stay long. I picked the lock but there's _no way out_. The whole place is sealed up tight, I can't _breathe_.”

“ _Hammers_ and coal.” Dwalin swore, “You're all right. I've got you.” and his hands were _too big_ , he couldn't reach _enough_ of Nori, just brush him through the bars.

Nori was shivering all over, not seeming to hear him, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be such a... a _child_ , to need... to come begging you for...”

“What do you need?” he asked, “You can ask me for anything, you know that, just let me out and...”

“Can't” Nori shook his head, plastering himself against the bars, and Dwalin ran his fingers over as much of him as he could, “No time to lock back up. Please... _please_ , Dwalin, just...” he broke off, pushing his face against Dwalin's fingers.

“Tell me, Nori, _anything_.” Dwalin begged.

“I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm _not_ a needy _child_ to want... I _need_...”

Dwalin's fingers were brushing Nori's face, his other hand reaching through the bars as far as he could to rub Nori's shoulder, “Please tell me.”

“I _shouldn't_ want you to hold me, and touch me, and take care of me, and kiss me, and never let go... and I... I... _nobody wants_... but I...” Nori's panicked gasps were speeding up.

“ _I_ want.” Dwalin said, “I would. I _will_ , as soon as we're out, I just can't _reach you_.” his hand's just _wouldn't_ fit through the bars, and he couldn't do _enough_.

“Give me your hand.” he said, and Nori's smaller hand fit easily through the bars. Dwalin clasped it tight, rubbed his cheek against it, traced circles on it... and Nori was breathing deeper, eyes closing as he slumped against the bars.

“Please?” he asked, putting his other hand through the bars, “I'm _sorry.”_

“You can ask, there's _no shame_ in it.” Dwalin said, grabbing onto Nori's second hand, holding it as he kissed the palm, sucking soft and gentle on the tender inside of Nori's wrist, over the lines of manacle scars that burnt sharp guilt against Dwalin's lips.

 _Dwarves_ had done this to Nori. Guards. _Dwalin_ had done this. He'd never broken, but they'd broken him anyway.

It wasn't right. There _had_ to be a better way. Something that did not leave Dwarves screaming themselves out in the dark like broken warriors.

Worse than that. A broken warrior at least had shield-mates... _Dwalin_ had had his shield-mates, in the worst times, to hold him together as he held them... Nori had been alone.

Dwalin switched to Nori's other hand, kissing it the same way, and it was working. Nori looked as though he were going to fall asleep against the bars, his breaths deep and shuddering as he held on tight to Dwalin's hands in turn.

There were deep scratches up Nori's arm.

“What's this?” He asked.

“...wasn't easy to reach the lock, but I _had to_ , I couldn't _stay_...”

Dwalin kissed all he could reach of Nori's scraped skin. Nori rested his forehead against the bars, looking through at Dwalin, his eyes not so wild anymore.

“Can I... touch you? I'm sorry.” Nori asked, his hands reaching toward Dwalin's shoulders.

“Don't be sorry.” Dwalin said, getting as close as he could to the bars, resting his own forehead just opposite Nori's, feeling the smaller Dwarf's breath against his own, as Nori grabbed on tight to him.

He stroked one of Nori's hands, with his other hand reached through the bars to touch Nori's face, as much as he could, settling onto the softness of his lips, tracing the shape of them.

He tried not to flinch away when Nori grabbed onto one of the many bruises on his shoulders, but Nori still felt it.

“You're hurt.” he said, eyes widening, “You're hurt. How are you hurt? _Why_ are you hurt?”

“I was trying to break down the bars... they're too strong... but I can't just listen to you scream, I _can't_...”

“No, no, no.” Nori broke in breathlessly, eyes wide again, grabbing Dwalin's shoulders and shaking him, “Don't care. Don't ever _care_... and if you can't not care don't ever let them _know_ you care, they'll _use_ it and...”

Dwalin pressed his fingers against Nori's mouth, “I can't listen to you scream, Nori.” He said, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could, “I can't just _sit here_ and listen. Could _you_ , if it was Ori?”

Nori's lips trembled slightly, very briefly, “...no.” he said, defeated.

“I care about _you_.” Dwalin said, “And I'll _keep_ trying to break the bars as long as I'm standing, and they're standing.”

Nori closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly, breathing deeply and holding on tight to Dwalin.

“I have to go.” He said, “I have to lock myself back in before the guard's round...”

Dwalin caught one of his hands, squeezing it hard before he gave it back, “Bilbo's going to get us out. Not long now.”

Nori nodded, standing. He looked exhausted, drooping as he turned away.

Dwalin watched him until long after he was out of sight, before returning to bed.

Brief as it had been, it must have helped. Nori did not scream that night.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even thought it appears, from the previews, that in the movie things aren't going to go that way - in the Book when the Company is fighting the spiders, Thorin is captured by the Elves and brought to the Elf King's palace separately from the rest. I decided to go with that.  
> For the _drama_.
> 
>  
> 
> Now with beautiful animated art by nowitsaparty  
> http://nowitsaparty.tumblr.com/post/58681394855/touch-causes-permanent-damage-to-your-heart-and


	18. escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company escape!
> 
> Warnings for panic / insomnia / stress

.

There were no bribes coming to set him free.

Nori had _never_ been imprisoned without money coming to set him free. Even when he was little, Thjofr made _sure_ he knew how to set it up so he would never be locked away.

But he was not in Belegost Prison and there were no bribes coming to set him free. The entire palace was sealed up tight and there were no other prisoners coming and going to trade information and favors with, to get news, to get word out or in.

There was no way out, and there were no bribes coming, and there was no one to throw a boot at him or hit him with the butt of a spear to wake him up when the dreams clawed their way out from behind his eyes, when he couldn't stay awake any more... and woke up with his throat on fire from screaming and he couldn't _breathe_.

He was _never_ locked up this long.

There was no way of knowing if the maps he was helping Bilbo draw were accurate, if the guard rounds the Hobbit illustrated on them were right. He was quick, Bilbo, clever, but he'd not been trained to it the way Nori had. He didn't live with a map in his head, marking everyone's movements and tracking paths and possibilities. Nori _tried_ to teach him, more patiently than he'd been taught, but there was no way to know if any of the plans they were making would work, with no way to know how accurate the maps Bilbo drew in the dust on the floor were, how accurate his assessment of the timing of guard rounds was.

Nori tried to focus on the plans and information Bilbo brought him, but his head ached because he couldn't sleep, and his throat ached because he couldn't stay awake, and he was locked in with no way out and no bribes coming and he couldn't _breathe_. He wrapped himself up in his blanket and tried not to think of it, but his thoughts ran in circles and the panic screamed louder and louder in the knots of his stomach the longer he couldn't sleep, growing and growing until he could _feel_ it crawling out of his throat and his entire skin burned with it.

He couldn't stop shaking, and everything grated against him, like mining grit had gotten into his clothes. He'd snarled cruel things at the Hobbit until he went away, and thrown his dinner back in the face of the timid young Elf who brought food – he couldn't _eat_ any more than he could _breathe_ – and he didn't even realize what he was doing until he already had his picks in the lock.

The cell was well built, as far as Elf construction went, and it was not easy to reach the lock, but they'd not planned on someone as determined as Nori. A little lost skin was a small price to pay.

He'd planned it so many times. Wait for the right moment, the longest stretch without a guard patrol in the night, pick the lock, go to Dwalin.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't. It was too high a risk and Dwalin didn't need to see... _no one_ wanted...

“ _I_ want.” Dwalin said, because he was touching Nori through the bars and Nori forgot how to guard his tongue.

Dwalin made everything better... still not good, but better. Less bad.

Even in the shape he was in, Nori still had the timings of the guard rounds running through his head and he knew when he had to leave, to lock himself back into his cell and give up even that tiny freedom he'd gotten himself.

At least, with the feel of Dwalin's lips lingering on his hands, Nori was finally able to sleep, for just one night, without waking up screaming.

It wasn't _enough_ , but it had to hold him until Bilbo could get them out.

.

There was no way to know if the Hobbit's information was good, if he would get the key the way he'd planned, if he wouldn't get the Company caught as he gathered them all up.

Either Bilbo would be successful, or he wouldn't. If he got the Company caught as they escaped... it would be very bad.

There was nothing Nori could do about _that_. What he _could_ do was time things himself, and open his own and Dwalin's cell's while they waited. If Bilbo failed, they would in enough of a mess already. Nori wouldn't have made it much worse.

“Nori?” Dwalin asked, as Nori set to picking his lock, “Is Bilbo with you?”

“No.” Nori said, shushing him so he could hear the clicking of the tumblers better, hardly daring to breathe as he forced his hands to be _steady_ under Dwalin's gaze, with the neverending sour taste of panic in his throat and screaming in his stomach, with the dreams clawing their way out from behind his eyes and his skin too tight everywhere...

“Please, just...” Nori begged like the needy child he _should never be_ as the lock clicked open, but Dwalin had already yanked the door open and grabbed him, wrapped his arms around him and held him close, tucked against that broad chest.

Nori buried his face against Dwalin's neck, hiding in his face in the warrior's hair while Dwalin's big hands roamed over his back, and every overtightened muscle in Nori's back and shoulders relaxed at once, a deep ache as they fell into their proper places, and Nori let his eyes close with a groan.

“Nori...” Dwalin's concerned voice rumbled through his chest against Nori, his fingers running over the knobs of Nori's spine, the sharpness of his hip.

Nori wrapped his arms around Dwalin, held onto him tight, “Bilbo should be here soon, if his plan works.” Nori said, “We should wait?”

Dwalin made an agreeing sound, backing up to his bed and pulling Nori onto it with him. Nori lay across his chest, and Dwalin slowly stroked his back, his hair, lifted his hand and softly kissed the scratches on his wrist... and Nori could fall asleep right here, could hide in this forever and never get tired of it – the warmth and closeness, the steady beat of Dwalin's heart under his ear, the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“What if Bilbo's plan doesn't work?” Dwalin asked.

“The Elves find us here.” Nori answered. “Search me better. Separate us. Lock us up where it's harder to escape.”

Dwalin's grip tightened on him, holding him close, safe. “I won't let them.” he growled, “I won't let them take you... not as long as I can _fight.”_

“It's not worth...” Nori started, but Dwalin cut him off.

“It is to _me._ ” He said, so firmly Nori could almost believe he _was_ worth it to Dwalin. He kissed Nori's palm and put his hand down, and Nori took the opportunity to stroke his fingers through the coarse hair of Dwalin's beard.

...and it was warm, and Dwalin's hands made everything safe, petting his back and hair, running down his side from his shoulder to his knee where he was curled around the larger Dwarf... and _finally_ nothing was trying to scream its way out of his stomach or claw its way from behind his eyes...

“Oh!” Nori was awake and on his feet in an instant at the Hobbit's exclamation, reaching for knives the Elves had taken off him before he remembered where he was and what was happening. Bofur was smirking at him, Fili and Kili didn't seem to be interested in anything but holding onto each other, and Bilbo was making offended huffing noises.

“All this time, you could open the doors yourself?” he said, and it sounded as though he'd stomped his foot. “Then _why_ did I got to all the trouble to get the key?”

“Keys are faster.” Nori said as Dwalin stood, “I couldn't guarantee the to get the timing right with just my picks.” Dwalin put a warm hand on his shoulder, and he desperately wanted to curl back up under it... but he wanted to be free more.

Bilbo made an exasperated noise and Bofur laughed slightly as he followed his hand down the hallway – as though he were holding hands with, and being pulled along by, a small but determined invisible person. Everyone followed, Nori didn't even realize he'd been leaning so hard into Dwalin's hand until it slid around him, tucking him firmly against the big warrior's side. Nori's arm decided to wrap around Dwalin, his fingers tangling up in the material of his shirt.

Ori flung himself on Nori when they got him out of his cell, his smile bright as he wrapped his arms around both Nori and Dwalin.

“I don't _like_ being alone.” he said firmly, as Nori remembered to squeeze him back and Dwalin hesitantly patted him.

“Of course not.” Bofur grinned, “Dwarves aren't meant to be alone, we're best in groups.”

“Oh sure, treat us like we aren't even _here_.” Kili said, grinning at Ori before he turned sorrowful eyes toward Fili, “He's forgotten all his _friends._..”

“You're my friends, Nori's my _brother_. That's more important.” Ori said, and the princes laughed and joined in on the hug. Nori tensed at the unexpected number of arms around him, until Dwalin's hand gently rubbing his side calmed him.

It was... it was _nice_... and Dwalin was squeezing the princes shoulders with a smile crinkling around his eyes.

“We don't have a lot of _time_.” Bilbo said, and the princes tucked Ori between them as they continued on the route Bilbo had chosen to pick up the rest of the Company.

Dori's lips thinned in displeasure the moment he set eyes on Nori, and he felt something twist in his chest. He'd thought... he'd _almost_ thought Dori didn't hate him anymore...

“Bilbo, you told me Nori was _fine_.” he accused at the general vicinity of Bilbo.

“I _am_ fine.” Nori said, his voice sharper than it should have been, Dwalin's hand tensing on his side a warning to stay calm.

...Dori had _asked_ about him? He'd asked about Dori, of course, but...

“Really, we _don't_ have the time.” Bilbo said, “This way please.” and they all followed where he pulled Bofur.

Bilbo's maps had been a little off on _scale_ , but at least his timing of the guard's rounds seemed to have been right. They weren't caught by the time they got Thorin out of his cell, the last of the Company, who'd been kept far away from the rest of them and near where they were going to escape. The King nodded regally to everyone, saving a smile for the princes.

They broke into the armory and grabbed what they could find of their belongings, and then they made their escape. Dwalin left Nori with one last squeeze to his shoulder, leaving him with an ache of emptiness down his side where he wasn't anymore until he was packed into a barrel and rolled off into the water and had other things to think about – like surviving.

The less said about the joys of riding rapids in barrels while fighting Orcs, the better.

If Nori _never_ saw another barrel again, it would still be too soon.

By the time they reached Lake-Town, Nori was bruised and exhausted enough he could hardly taste the food they were given, and he hardly noticed where Dwalin was hauling him until he found himself in a large house, in a small corner room with two windows and a Man-sized bed. Dwalin cracked both windows open, and Nori hardly bothered to do more than kick his boots off before crawling under the covers.

He fell asleep holding on tight to Dwalin's sturdy frame, big warm arms wrapped around him – he had a brief little twitch at the back of his mind, telling him he _shouldn't_ , but he was too tired to chase it - and he slept.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nori's POV is a bit unreliable, here. Writing this, I was remembering when I was working nights and unable to sleep during the day, and would end up going days on end without sleep, week after week. I was extremely irritable, irrational, impulsive, and my mood could change from wild glee to utter depression in an instant. It was not good times.  
> Nori is hitting his limit, here. He isn't thinking clearly. He can pull it together, with the help of adrenaline, and be mostly ok for something like the escape, but once that's over he's not got much left.


	19. catching up on sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Territorial Dwalin is territorial. also UST.

.

Nori slept for two days.

He got up to eat, when meals were served, but then he'd go directly back to bed. The first night he clung so tightly to Dwalin in his sleep he was afraid the thief was going to hurt himself.

The second day he was more himself, the deep hollows around his eyes already fading, and he kept his hands to himself. Ori managed to convince him to sit and let him brush his hair for him after lunch. Nori leaned back, his long hair spilling over the back of his chair, and let Ori brush it.

Nori sighed in contentment... and fell asleep right in the chair, the way he'd fallen asleep on Dwalin in the short wait before Bilbo came to gather them up, the way he'd kept _almost_ falling asleep as he ate at the feast when they'd arrived in Lake-Town.

Ori signaled everyone to be _quiet –_ leveling a particularly pointed glare at Kili, who was desperately trying to think up a prank to play on him – and finished brushing and braiding Nori's hair as gently as he could. He fastened Nori's clasp on the end of a long braid and stepped back, biting his lip a little.

“Should we let him sleep, or?...” he asked, very quietly.

“He'll sleep better in bed.” Dwalin decided, “I'll take him.”

Ori smiled at him and patted his shoulder in passing as he moved to Nori's side... it still caught him by surprise when the little scribe did that – people didn't _touch_ Dwalin without warning. Surely he _knew_ that Dwalin was a killer? _Everyone_ knew... maybe it was just that _Nori_ didn't fear Dwalin's hands, and Ori was following after his brother. Dwalin hadn't known how to respond when Ori hugged both him and Nori during their escape... and then Fili and Kili joined in...

Tempting as it would be to scoop the too-thin thief up in his arms and carry him away – and Dwalin suspected that, as tired as he was, Nori would hardly notice – the Company were already giving him and Nori enough sidelong glances and knowing smiles. Dwalin shook Nori by the shoulder, and the smaller Dwarf's eyes snapped open even as he leaned into Dwalin's hand.

“Bed.” Dwalin said, and Nori nodded as Dwalin lifted him to his feet with the same grip on his shoulder and walked him toward the room he'd commandeered for them. He'd asked for the room with the most windows when they had finally gotten into the house, Nori tucked under his arm and no longer coherent – he'd been weaving on his feet _before_ their escape – and thankfully nobody had made him explain _why_.

Nori paused at the door, touching his braided hair in confusion, before turning back to smile at his younger brother.

“Thank you, Ori.” He said, and the little scribe glowed.

Nori settled easily into the bed, and Dwalin left him to continue catching up on his sleep. When he got back to the common room, it was to have all eyes turn toward him.

“What did they _do_ to him?” Dori asked. He looked past Dwalin, toward the room where Nori was resting. He wasn't the only one who was concerned... and they were all looking at Dwalin, as if he could tell them anything.

He leaned against the doorframe, “The Elves treated him the same as the rest of us.” He said, and that was all he would say. Nothing more was his to tell. If your shield-brother told you the dreams that woke him screaming, you _didn't_ go telling anyone else. You didn't.

Dori glared at him. Dwalin folded his arms, big hands displayed against bigger biceps, and would not be cowed.

Dori transferred his ire to Bilbo, “ _You_ said he was doing fine!”

Bilbo sneezed into a handkerchief, looking very small and miserable wrapped up in a blanket and sipping a big mug of tea.

“He kept _saying_ he was fine!” Bilbo protested, “He wouldn't tell me anything. I _asked.”_

“He tried to pretend he was fine after the Goblins, too, but he was...” Dori started, Dwalin growled a warning, and the pretty merchant broke off with a startled look at him. That was not his to _know_ , and it certainly wasn't his to _share_. Dori shut his mouth.

“ _Something_ happened to him.” Bofur said, “There has to be a reason he's all...” he made incomprehensible hand motions, “when the rest of us are fine.”

There were murmurs of agreement, and they were all looking at Dwalin again. Dwalin looked away.

“I _did_ hear some of the night guards saying that there was one Dwarf who screamed and cursed in the night?” Bilbo volunteered. Dwalin glared at him, and the Hobbit shrank in his blankets.

It was Balin who put it together first, of course, making a small sympathetic 'ah' and giving Dwalin a sad look. He'd been there, in the worst of Dwalin's – the way Dwalin had been there for his – the other old warriors in their group were not far behind.

Dori looked around, “What is it?” he asked, bristling as all he got were a few mild head-shakes. It was _Nori's_ to decide who to share it with, they all knew that.

“I have a right to know, he's my...” he started.

“ _Your_ what?” Dwalin interrupted, leaning toward him, keeping his voice low and even, and Dori responded to the threat it was. He swallowed hard and looked away, the pain written on his face.

“I'm _trying_.” he said, quietly, and Dwalin resisted the urge to tell him it would have mattered a _lot_ more if he'd tried _decades_ before. Nori clearly still wanted Dori's approval, the way he'd cringed away from Dori's anger when they were escaping proved it. Nori had been so raw, then, completely unable to hide anything.

Ori was looking from face to face in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

“Nori's going to be alright now, though?” he said, clearly deciding that understanding what the warriors in the group knew wasn't the important thing.

“Aye.” Dwalin told him, “he'll be alright now.”

.

The third day, Dwalin woke up to find Nori already up. He was perched precariously on the narrow window ledge, letting cold air into the room as he brushed his hair up into his peaks. The sight of all that soft hair glowing red in the morning light did nothing to help tame Dwalin's morning erection. Nori was still far too thin, his bones showing too sharp on his face, but now he was looking alive, watching what was happening outside in the town, eyes flicking to Dwalin when he moved.

Dwalin let his eyes wander over Nori as he stretched and sat up, shoving the blankets onto his lap as he got himself under control, letting the cold air wash over him. The clothes Nori was wearing didn't fit him well – none of the Company were looking too good in the hastily made-over clothes the Men of Lake-Town had provided – but even so, and even with the condition he was in, there was no disguising the smooth lines of his body, the easy grace he perched on the window ledge with.

Nori had paused, his hands stilling in his hair, wetting his bottom lip as he stared at...

oh.

Dwalin's ill-fitting shirt had come open in the night, leaving his chest bare, and that was definitely where Nori's eyes were. Nori's eyes flicked up to Dwalin's, wide open bright gold and copper-green, his lips slightly parted as he glanced from Dwalin's mouth back up to his eyes.

Pausing.

Waiting.

The moment stretching out into an infinity between them... Nori waiting for an invitation the way he had in Mirkwood, and in Mirkwood Dwalin had been happy to give him one – to reach out and grab him and give him what he clearly wanted when he wouldn't ask.

It would be so easy. A gruff 'come here' would probably do it, and Nori had never pushed his hands away. He could have the thief, strip him down and have him shuddering in his hands, have him warm and squirming beneath him, wring the pleasure noises out of him, have _all_ of him. So easy...

No.

It was one thing to offer him closeness and comfort, and another entirely to take pleasure with him. That was one thing Dwalin _could not_ do. Even _before_ he was a killer he knew he was too intimidating, to _big_ , he should not be the one asking... and _afterward..._

No, he couldn't ask. He could accept, but he could not ask. Nori was still recovering from being locked away and even at the _worst_ of it, when Nori had been pushing against him through the bars he'd only asked for closeness, not passion. _Not refusing_ was not the same as saying _yes._ He'd asked for closeness and Dwalin had been giving it to him as much as he could, but _that_ wasn't what Dwalin wanted right now.

He _wanted_.

He almost opened his mouth to... he didn't _know_ what he was going to say... but the moment had already snapped, stretched too far. Nori blinked, breaking eye contact, and slid gracefully down from the window ledge, sailing out of the room without a backward glance and his hair still only half-done.

Dwalin groaned into his hands, left alone with nothing but his aching groin for company.

By the time he had dressed himself and made his way into the common parts of the house, Nori had already left to accompany other Company members on errands through the town.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with gorgeous art by Mia-newarcher  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/59587044679/nori-from-thorinsmuts-fic-touch-i-want-to-say


	20. undercurrent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension builds.

.

Nori almost asked.

It was... he'd already begged _so much_ from Dwalin, and he couldn't...

Nori had woken up – woken up _properly_ for the first time since reaching Lake-Town –clinging to Dwalin's warm hand where it rested on his chest. It had taken patience and stealth to slip out from under the warrior's hand without waking him.

It was a good room Dwalin had chosen for them, two windows and a door – three escape routes – and the windows cracked open. The cold air felt good in his lungs as he sat on the windowsill and fixed his hair. If he liked, he could have scrambled up onto the roof, or down to the walkways, or dropped down into the water. He wasn't the _strongest_ swimmer, but more than adequate to make a getaway that way.

The possibilities were _intoxicating._ He could go wherever he liked, do whatever he wanted. Really _feeling_ it finally loosened the last of the knots in his stomach, loosened the bands around his lungs so he could breathe free and deep at last.

The way Dwalin looked at him when he woke up... his skin still flushed from sleep, eyes traveling blatantly over Nori. His shirt was open, dark slightly graying curls over big scarred and tattooed muscles, and Nori _wanted_ to feel that against him, always loved the brief moments of skin-against-skin when he was sharing a tumble with someone... and what might it be like with _Dwalin,_ who was so different in _everything?_

He'd almost asked, almost begged like he had through the bars and he didn't know _why_ Dwalin hadn't gotten tired of him and his neediness yet. He held his tongue, somehow.

For a moment he'd almost thought Dwalin would invite him back into the bed, pull him into his arms and grumble 'you can ask' before giving him exactly what he wanted... but it quickly became apparent that Dwalin _wouldn't_.

Nori left before he could make the mistake he so desperately wanted to make. He'd already asked _far_ too much of Dwalin, more than he could ever have expected to be given. Anything more he asked for could be the one thing too far, the thing that made Dwalin realize that Nori really _was_ the needy child Thjofr had always said he was, that he'd tried _so hard_ not to be and obviously failed _._.. and when Dwalin realized that everything would be _lost_ , and he _couldn't_.

He couldn't lose Dwalin.

Down in the kitchen Bombur and Dori were happily baking, and Nori snagged a few warm scones with butter for his breakfast, and then tagged along with Ori and Oin and the princes as they left to gather supplies in the town. It felt a little strange to go somewhere without Dwalin... he'd hardly done it since he joined the Company, but he _was_ allowed to.

Ori wanted fresh ink and quill and new pages to add to his book, Oin wanted to replenish his medical kit, most of which had been lost. Fili and Kili and Nori just wanted to see more of the town. Fili and Kili got bored while Oin had a long, loud, and misunderstanding-filled conversation with the apothecary, and decided to take Ori and go exploring instead. Nori poked his way around the shop, puzzling out the long words on the labels of dried plants and tins of pre-mixed medicines.

With the apothecary's attention fixed on Oin, it was ridiculously easy to palm a tin of plain salve base – the thick, creamy kind that stayed slick for a long time, the kind he preferred to oil for when he wanted a fuck instead of just a quick tumble.

He knew the chance he would _use_ it was vanishingly tiny, but still, he'd rather have it and not need it than the opposite.

The apothecary and Oin were both becoming frustrated, so Nori settled himself behind the Man and signed the gist of what he was saying where only Oin could see.

Things went better after that.

Oin smacked Nori on the shoulder affectionately as they left, giving him a smile. He hadn't seen it coming or he would have ducked away from it out of habit... first Ori and the princes hugging him, and now Oin smacking him...

Nori usually only let people touch him on his own terms, and the Company had picked it up quickly, only now it was all breaking down and he didn't know _why_.

Maybe it was because the Company were used to seeing Dwalin touch him now, and they had seen Ori brushing his hair, too.

Nori tried to resent it... but he _didn't_.

It was _nice,_ like having friends, and it wasn't like any of them were going to get arrested and betray him for having gotten too close.

They found Ori and Fili and Kili sitting on one of the raised walkways eating meat pastries and throwing pinches to the ducks swimming underneath. Nori snagged a pastry out of the basket and sat near Ori.

The young Dwarves were throwing theories back and forth as to _why_ ducks float so very well, and the sun was warm even thought there was a chill in the air, and Nori had gotten a decent map of the town in his mind from their wanderings... and there was nothing stopping him from going wherever he liked and doing whatever he wanted, and that was the most beautiful feeling.

Ori smiled and handed him another pastry, and Nori grinned back as he ate it.

.

When they finally made their way back to the house the Company had been given to use, the common room had been cleared of all the furniture so people could spar with each other.

Nori sparred a round against Fili, fast and vicious, knives against knives. It was fun, but he begged off any further rounds. He'd gotten _tired_. He would have to work on building his endurance back up, but he could let it go just for _one_ day.

He found himself a comfortable perch and settled in to watch, occasionally making bets with a few of the other Company members as the afternoon wore on.

Somehow, despite the noise, he fell asleep and didn't wake up until Dwalin was shaking him by the shoulder.

“Dinner.” he said, and Nori nodded, only realizing when he went to stand how far his body had been leaning into Dwalin's hand, curving in toward it.

He pushed away and stretched the kinks out of his muscles – he would have chosen a better position if he'd realized he was going to fall _asleep._ He rolled his shoulders and reached up, fingers interlaced as he arched his back to get it to pop, loosening everything up and...

Dwalin was watching him, eyes wandering over him the same way they had that morning. Nori didn't meet his gaze, turning and walking to the dining room without a glance behind.

He _couldn't_ make that mistake... the tin of salve he'd tucked into his pocket mocked him – preparing for what he shouldn't ask for and Dwalin wasn't going to offer.

After dinner, everyone else seemed to want to take an early night. There was a little singing and storytelling, but the Company drifted off to their respective rooms fairly quickly. Nori had only just woken up and wasn't tired. He tucked himself into a corner and had a quiet smoke. Lake-Town's Best pipe-weed wasn't terrible, though some of the older Dwarves got downright teary over it – apparently it tasted like their youths in Erebor. Bilbo, of course, informed them that it was _nothing_ compared to Hobbit pipe-weed – but he fought back strenuously when Bofur jokingly tried to take it away from him.

Eventually it was just Nori and Dwalin in the common room of the house, sitting quietly in the flickering light of the fire. Dwalin finished meticulously greasing the leather of his knuckle-dusters and looked over at him.

“Going to bed?” he asked.

Nori shook his head, “Not tired.” He knocked the ash out of his pipe and wondered if he ought to smoke another.

“We should spar.” Dwalin said, “That'll tire you out.” he was already going for his axes, tossing Nori's mace to him... and it _would_ be good for Nori to have as normal a sleeping schedule as possible, now that he'd caught up with his sleep. Sparring ought to do the trick, especially against Dwalin.

They squared off in the middle of the room, and at Dwalin's nod, they began. Fighting the big warrior was like dancing along the edge of a rockslide, pushing himself as fast as he could go just to avoid getting crushed, a single misplaced step all it would take to end it. There was no room for thought, just focus and instinct.

They broke after a few minutes. Nori was sweating, but to his credit so was Dwalin. Dwalin grinned, shucking off all but his undershirt as he guzzled a mug of water. Nori followed suit, meeting him back in the center of the room, rocking lightly on his feet as Dwalin squared himself, axes swinging in his hands.

“Ready?” he asked, and Nori nodded.

Dwalin tried to push him back, force him to close so he could use his superior strength – Nori dodged and danced circles, cutting around his guard, relying on the advantage of his speed, making the warrior fight for every step he advanced. Dwalin was a wall of axes, and behind it gleaming blue eyes and the occasional flash of a smile when Nori got in a good hit.

Nori was good, he _knew_ he was, but there is no winning against a rockslide. At his best he might have outlasted him, but he was not at his best at the moment.

It was inevitable that he would make a mistake as he tired, and when he did Dwalin sent his mace flying across the room. Nori rolled out of axe range, coming up with his curved knives in his hands. He had to fight close, with them, where Dwalin's strength had the advantage...

but Dwalin hadn't followed. He nodded to Nori, putting his axes up. His shirt was sticking slightly to the sweat on his broad chest, the top buttons of his shirt coming undone, and he was breathing hard.

“That's enough for me. Good fight.” he said, and Nori put his knives up with a nod, looking away from Dwalin, glad for the chance to catch his own breath. They put their weapons away, checking them over for damage first.

Dwalin caught his eye with a little follow-me tilt of his head, and Nori followed him to the kitchen.

“I think there were apples?” Dwalin said, poking around in the pantry, “...pears. Better.” He tossed one over his shoulder to Nori, who caught it. He handed Nori a mug of cool water too, and flopped into a chair with a pear and mug of water of his own. It was a good pear he'd given Nori, something sweet always hit the spot after sparring.

Nori perched himself on the counter by the window, watching the moonlight on the rippling water like some damn Elf instead of watching Dwalin, sprawled across a chair with his shirt half-open, a little gleam of sweat on his skin.

The sparring _had_ tired Nori out a bit, a pleasant burn in his muscles, he would probably be able to sleep once he cooled down and his blood settled.

Dwalin finished his pear, core and all, and stood. “I'm going to bed.” he said.

Nori nodded and threw the core of his pear into the garbage, taking the space to Dwalin's side he'd gotten so used to taking.

He shouldn't.

It was probably a mistake to try to share a bed with Dwalin while his blood was high and he couldn't help _wanting_. If he were as clever as he liked to think he was, he wouldn't join Dwalin. He would sleep in a chair or... Ori was his kin, he could join him for a night, be a little crowded with Fili and Kili but...

Dwalin closed the bedroom door behind them, standing very close.

Nori didn't move away. He could smell the salt of his sweat on his skin... it would be far too easy to reach up and run his fingers through Dwalin's chest hair, feel the texture of it and the feel of his muscles beneath it, press into him to feel that body all against his own when he _wasn't_ injured, feel those wonderful hands all over his body, taste the skin of his neck before kissing him... kissing the way no one else kissed, and...

...and finally show him just _how_ pathetically needy he was? He'd already asked for far too much.

His eyes finally made it up to Dwalin's, and he hadn't moved away either. He was looking down at Nori, and it looked like hunger in his eyes. He reached out, as if to touch him, stopped himself. Nori leaned toward him, looking from his lips back up to his eyes, heart pounding in his throat.

He shouldn't, he shouldn't, he shouldn't, but...

“...ask?” Dwalin's rumbling voice ached on the whisper, “I won't turn you down, but you have to _ask_.” his eyes were on Nori as though he would strip his clothes from him with the power of his gaze.

 _Ask_ , he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. _Ask_ , he said, when Nori didn't even know exactly what he was asking for, what he _wanted_ , what Dwalin wanted to give him. _Ask_ , but it was _nothing_ like going for a drink and finding someone friendly to share a quick meaningless tumble. It was _Dwalin_ , and it was so much better and worse and _more_. _Ask_ , when he'd already asked so much more than he should ever _ever_ want or need, and he didn't _know_ what to ask _for_ , and he _couldn't_ lose Dwalin.

What _could_ he ask for? Dwalin was leaning in close, _so close_ and not touching, like it hurt him to hold back, and he was asking for Nori to ask and Nori _wanted_ to. 'You can ask', Dwalin said over and over again, and ' _I_ want' when Nori said that _nobody wanted,_ and maybe... maybe it was true? He could ask for what hadn't been too much in the past, couldn't he?

“A kiss?” he asked.

Dwalin groaned as he finally closed the gap between their bodies, one big hand cradling the back of Nori's head, fingers in his hair as he brought their mouths together. He kissed slow, slow and deep, his other hand roaming down Nori's back, pulling their bodies tight together.

Nori moaned into it, holding onto Dwalin as tight as he could. Dwalin's kiss was the most perfect closeness, as always, so pure Nori could hide in it forever... but there was an undercurrent of passion beneath the gentleness this time, slow-moving but deadly-deep like it would drag him under and drown him.

Nori dived into it with his eyes open.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with Art by Sparkle!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/96973943123/nori-perched-himself-on-the-counter-by-the-window


	21. say it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just pure porn. Enjoy.

.

“A kiss?” Nori asked, and Dwalin kissed him. Grabbed him and held him and kissed him.

Nori pulled his body tight against Dwalin's, the smaller Dwarf arching against him as they kissed slow, but this time Dwalin could taste a low-burning hunger under it. Nori's hands slid slowly across Dwalin's body – one hand flicking as quickly as thought across the last fastened buttons of his shirt and sliding in, warm and sure against his skin – the other running over his shoulders, resting briefly on the back of his neck before tracing slowly over the tattoos on his head, the scar across his face.

Nori moaned into Dwalin's mouth as he worked his fingers into the silky hair at the back of the smaller Dwarf's neck, their tongues sliding together slow and deep, warm panting breaths and gentle sucking lips as Dwalin eased his hand under the hem of Nori's shirt, exploring the rough texture of the scars on his back against the softness of his skin.

He was hard already, with Nori shuddering under his hands, moving his hips in a slow grind against Dwalin's... and Nori was hard too, he could feel his erection pressing against him.

Oh yes... he could have him, moaning and shuddering beneath him, clenching hot and tight around him as...

but no.

A kiss was all Nori had asked for, even if he was now grinding against him, moaning, tugging at his shirt to try to remove it.

He let go of Nori's back momentarily, shrugging his shoulder down to help Nori free it of the confines of his shirt, Nori's hand running over his exposed skin, squeezing at his muscles as he moaned again.... It was tempting, _so_ tempting, to let all the words go, to just follow Nori's lead and take what he wanted – but he'd had it pounded into his thick skull over and _over_ how careful he had to be with anyone smaller than him, with anyone he could possibly have any power over.

Dwalin slid his hand down to Nori's arse, pulled him close for better friction, grinding together slow, slow, as he broke the kiss to lean down close to Nori's ear, Nori's hands exploring the bare skin of his back, his shirt uselessly hanging from just one arm now.

“If you don't want more, we should stop now.” Dwalin said, his voice coming out rougher than he'd expected... Nori nuzzled under his beard, warm lips sucking gently at Dwalin's neck with a soft moan, not slowing in the slightest.

Dwalin groaned, lifting his chin to give Nori better access to his throat, offering Nori that trust. Pleasure shivered down his spine as Nori took full advantage, pressing kisses firm but gentle across it, sucking on his pulse not hard enough to leave a mark. He pushed awkwardly at Nori's shirt, and he broke contact with Dwalin for a moment as he shucked it off efficiently, returning with his eyes blazing, drawing Dwalin's head down for a kiss as he pressed the heat of his skin against Dwalin's chest in the cool room. Dwalin slid his arm out of the last sleeve of his shirt, leaving it across the floor and returning to the furnace of Nori's skin.

 _Hammers and coal_ , the way Nori was _breathing_ , little hungry gasps and moans against his mouth – and the way his hands ran over Dwalin's body, exploring, and gripping, pulling him close like he wanted nothing more in the world than to touch him – and the way he was shuddering under Dwalin's touch, stretching against him and grinding on him slow and sure and inexorable as he kissed like it would never end...

Dwalin hardly realized he'd been backing Nori toward the bed until he was hoisting the smaller Dwarf onto it, both of them kicking their boots off as Dwalin crawled up over him to resume their interrupted kiss, just as slow and deep as he ground the shuddering thief into the mattress with his whole body. He touched him anywhere he could reach, aching to know every part of his skin, to _know_ him.

Nori's hand found the straining laces of Dwalin's pants, quick fingers making short work of the knot and...

Dwalin put his hand over Nori's, stilling it as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Nori's. It would be _so easy_ , but he couldn't.

“I want you.” he whispered against Nori's lips, _“So_ much. I want everything with you, _anything_ with you... but I have to hear you _say_ it.”

Nori stilled beneath him, closing his eyes. Dwalin stroked his thumb back and forth along Nori's collarbone, and he pressed up into it... _always_ so responsive to every touch.

“Tell me what you want?” he asked, and Nori always talked when Dwalin was touching him, didn't he? He never could resist. He breathed in twice, sharply, swallowing hard, before he did, but he _did_.

“...make love to me?” he whispered, as though he thought Dwalin was going to say no.

“gladly...” Dwalin groaned, kissing Nori again, slowing himself down intentionally... there was no reason to rush this, not when Nori responded so beautifully to slow, to gentle, to the smallest touches, moans rumbling in his chest and against Dwalin's mouth as he arched against him. He could get lost in this, build it slow and slow... like the hottest forge fires that never broke into open flame.

Nori finished unlacing Dwalin's pants and took his erection in hand, had the nerve to chuckle as Dwalin bucked involuntarily with a sharp gasp.

That was... _how_ was that just one hand? Playing with his foreskin against the crown of his erection, exquisite slow intensity – massaging the shaft as he stroked it at the same time.

“...Nori...” Dwalin moaned, his body curling in... that _hand_ , how had he never _known_ Nori had that kind of skill? He would _never_ be able to look at Nori's hands the same way again. He wrestled with the ties on Nori's pants, fingers clumsy, until Nori pushed his hand away and did it himself, kicking his pants off entirely.

Dwalin would never have the kind of skill with his hand that Nori did, the best he could do was wrap his oversized hand around the heat of Nori's arched erection, stroking the velvet-smoothness of his skin over his hardness, matching the slow, steady pace Nori was using on him. Nori whimpered, arching his hips into it in the _best_ way, the hand on Dwalin's erection never faltering, holding tight to him with the other, pressing his whole body into Dwalin, rubbing against him like he _needed_ his skin, burrowing against him like he would hide in him... and _how_ did someone make something as simple and basic as just _hands_ feel so _good?_ Dwalin had thought he'd exhausted all possibilities that way when he was a randy young Darrow just figuring out what felt good, but _blessed blazing forges_...

“...so good _.._.” Dwalin groaned, planting a sucking kiss just below Nori's collarbone as a particular twist of Nori's wrist had his body bucking.

“mmm...” Nori agreed.

It was so _so_ good with Nori pushing against him like they could crawl into each other's bodies, like he wanted to be close and closer than close, and how good might it feel to slide into the heat of him, close as two Dwarves could get?

“...could I... could... _hammers, Nori!_... could I... inside you, and...” Dwalin could feel the heat pooling in the base of his spine, coiling in his stomach, and he wasn't going to last with Nori's obscenely clever hand working him, he already couldn't _communicate..._ but somehow Nori understood him, his hand easing off as his eyes widened, breath catching.

“yes...” he breathed. After the first instant's blaze of anticipation and joy, frustration followed fast... _why_ hadn't he thought to grab some oil from the kitchens? He hadn't dared anticipate they would actually _do_ this, but still...

“Oil...” he said, drawing back from Nori, glancing toward the door. It wouldn't take _too_ long to find some...

“Jacket.” Nori said, gesturing to the discarded piece of clothing. Dwalin reluctantly left the softness of Nori's skin, the touch of his hands, to grab the jacket. Nori gestured for it, and Dwalin tossed it to him. Dwalin took the time to finally remove his pants as Nori dug around in the folds of the jacket. By the time he got back onto the bed, Nori had fished a tin out of some part of it and tossed the jacket away. He pressed the tin into Dwalin's hands, breathing fast, his lips reddened from kissing, his gorgeous hair all in disarray and his pupils so wide there was just a thin line of gold visible of his irises.

“Fuck me.” he whispered.

The tin held a smooth salve, Dwalin coated his fingers generously and moved between Nori's legs, the smaller Dwarf lying back and opening for him eagerly. He massaged him gently, watching his face, before he pressed slowly inward.

Nori's eyes never left his, his mouth opening in a near-soundless cry as Dwalin breached him, body arching up, his hands fluttering over what he could reach of Dwalin... Dwalin stroked Nori's body with his spare hand as he slowly, slowly worked his big finger into him... he was _so responsive_.

When Nori could easily take two fingers, Dwalin coated his erection with the salve, lifting Nori's knee to get the position he wanted. He paused at Nori's entrance, the smaller Dwarf sprawled across the bed, his eyes still wide and never leaving Dwalin's.

“Ready?” Dwalin asked. Nori nodded, hips squirming in Dwalin's grasp, and Dwalin pressed forward into him, slow, slow as he could.

Nori breathed in sharp gasps, wrapping his legs around Dwalin to pull him into the achingly soft tight heat of his body, grabbing onto him with his hands and his eyes, pulled him in until he couldn't dream of escape and never wanted to.

Dwalin moaned, might have let himself collapse across Nori's chest if his eyes hadn't been holding him captive... everything so slick and smooth and tight... he was not going to _last._

Nori made a hungry noise, canting his hips up, and Dwalin obeyed the unspoken request, beginning a slow steady rhythm, searching for the angle that made Nori gasp and clench on him and using it mercilessly... reaching between their bodies to stroke Nori's erection, holding back on his climax as hard as he could, because he wasn't going to _last_ and he wanted to feel Nori's first. His other hand was tangled up in Nori's soft soft silk hair, stroking through it... laying over him, their breaths warm against each other's faces and Nori's wide eyes catching his until he wasn't sure he could even _blink_ and didn't want to.

Nori held onto him, his body writhing beneath him, all heat and slickness, soft skin and lean muscles and scars and perfection as he clenched _hard_ on Dwalin with a broken cry, the wet heat flooding across Dwalin's fingers as he spent in his hand, and his eyes finally closed.

Dwalin groaned, dropping his head to Nori's shoulder as he pressed in faster, just a few times as the heat built in his thighs and back, coiling out of his stomach and finally breaking as he spent deep into Nori's body, clinging to the lean Dwarf as close as he could hold him.

“Dwalin.” Nori gasped, holding him, petting his back.

“Nori...” Dwalin answered, burying his face in messy silk of his hair... and nothing else in the world needed to be said.

.


	22. tangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally a little more smut and then some talking. 
> 
> warnings for insecurity and mentions of torture.

.

Nori had almost managed to untangle his body from Dwalin's and slip out of bed without waking him, but then the big warrior had mumbled something incomprehensible, grabbing Nori and pulling him against his chest as easily as if he were a doll or a child, wrapping himself around him without waking up. 

Nori might have protested, if it weren't so comfortable. Getting dressed and going about the day could wait a little longer. He allowed himself the indulgence of rubbing his cheek against Dwalin's chest hair, since he was being held captive. It was thick and soft and very nice, and Nori could feel himself smiling. 

He couldn't particularly recall the last time he'd had sex _that_ good. They'd barely had the energy to get themselves cleaned up before they collapsed into the bed and fell asleep. He _still_ felt warm and relaxed and very contented... though the warm part of it might have been because Dwalin was a furnace, wrapped around him like...

almost like he wanted this as much as Nori did. 

Nori shivered slightly at the memory of Dwalin's hands, so strong and so gentle, running all over his body with never a hint of impatience – Dwalin's bare skin so warm against his own then just the way it was now. It had been a long time since Nori had had a lover he spent the night with. 

Is that what he and Dwalin were now? Lovers? Or was this a one-time thing, Dwalin not looking for anything more than someone to get off with, the way Nori usually did? 

Nori began absently tracing the thick black lines of tattoos on Dwalin's chest, over old scars. 

Which would be best? He wasn't sure. A one-time thing was always easiest. If they were lovers, it would end badly. It always did... though the fact that Dwalin wasn't going to get arrested would make things easier. If it was a one time thing, he wouldn't get to have _this_ again, and that was a strong argument for lovers. 

Lovers was complicated, always standing on the line between asking too much and being too needy, and asking too little and being too cold, and Nori _always_ landed on the side of too much... but it was already complicated with Dwalin, wasn't it? He already didn't know how much he could ask from Dwalin, he still didn't know _why_ Dwalin allowed him to ask anything from him. 

Dwalin _wanted_ him to ask, though. That much had been made clear. Dwalin had refused himself what he wanted, what Nori offered, until Nori had asked for it. 

All those times he'd told Nori that he could ask, he'd _meant_ it?

It wouldn't last. Of course it wouldn't, no one _wanted_ , but... while it _did_ last...

Nori rested his forehead against Dwalin's broad chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart as he wrapped his arm around him to hold him as close as he was being held. 

Dwalin mumbled something, a deep rumble in his chest, and he dug his fingers into Nori's hair, stroking through it sleepily.

His hair... Dwalin wouldn't be the first to be enamored of it – a gift his mother had given all of her sons, though Ori hadn't grown into his yet. His mother's hair had been _so_ beautiful, better even than Dori's mithril braids, until the ravages of the dragon cough took that from her too. 

Dwalin was waking up now, a pleased-sounding hum as his hand began to wander over more of Nori's skin, sending an involuntary shudder through him. Dwalin brushed the hair back out of Nori's face, scooting down in the bed until they were face-to-face. 

“You're still here.” he said, eyes still soft with sleep, holding him close in the nest of the blankets. 

“You wouldn't let me go.” Nori told him. Dwalin immediately opened his arms, giving Nori room to escape. Nori didn't move away, meeting Dwalin's eye, and after a moment the warrior smiled, holding him again, running those marvelous hands over his skin, which Nori reciprocated. 

It wasn't like the night before, slow as it had been there had been a specific _intent_ to it – this was just pure exploration. Dwalin touched his scars, big and small, old and new, ran his fingers through Nori's chest hair, teased at his nipples but they had never been sensitive and he left them alone. Nori traced the thick lines of the tattoo that graced most of Dwalin's chest. 

“For Fundin.” Dwalin said quietly, “My father... Azanulbizar... Balin has one to match.” 

Nori pressed his palm to it. That battle had taken so many. He'd just been a child but he could remember the warriors returning with horror in their eyes – so few, when so many had gone.

“It was long ago.” Dwalin said, and Nori nodded, moving on to feel the shape of Dwalin's shoulder muscle, fitting his fingers around it, moving slowly down his arm, finding every scar, feeling the muscles move as Dwalin touched him in return. Nori reached Dwalin's hand, so much bigger than his own, broad palm and thick fingers, scars and weapon callouses and tattoos and unfailingly gentle. 

Dwalin caught Nori's hand, brought it to his lips. “I'll never be able to look at your hands again... you're too good with them.” 

It wasn't as though he'd never been told how good he was with his hands before, or that he didn't _know_ how good he was, that he hadn't practiced until he _was_ that good... but he was still flattered. 

Dwalin kissed each fingertip, and his palm, before releasing his hand. Nori traced the edge of his pierced ear, meeting Dwalin's gleaming blue eyes, and leaned in for a kiss. 

He would never get tired of the way Dwalin kissed, groaning as Nori discovered that the warrior's nipples _were_ sensitive. His erection, which had already been at half-mast against Nori, came to attention, and Nori pressed his hips into him in invitation... but that wouldn't work, would it? Dwalin needed to be asked... and if Nori really _could_ ask... 

Dwalin _wanted_ him to ask, and with the way he was responding he wasn't likely to say no... He _could_ ask for this. It wouldn't be too much. It hadn't _been_ too much... 

“Are... you interested in a morning round?” he asked quickly, before he talked himself out of it. 

“Aye.” Dwalin grinned, pulling him in closer to grind briefly together before rolling onto his back – reaching out to grab the tin of salve on the bedside table and handing it to Nori. Nori popped the lid off, slicking up Dwalin's generous erection and straddling the big Dwarf. After the night before, he only needed the most perfunctory preparation before he pressed Dwalin into himself. 

Slow, slow, slow, he was a little tender from the night before, but oh so _good_. He rocked, easing more in as he went, and Dwalin was moaning, his gorgeous big hands kneading Nori's hips in encouragement but allowing him to keep control. Finally he was all the way down, hips meeting Dwalin's hips, and it was so _deep_ and so _full_ and so. damn. _good._ heat and pleasure intense to the edge of pain but never crossing that line, and there was no room around the pleasure to be embarrassed about the high-pitched sounds he was making. 

“Nori.” Dwalin groaned, pulling him down to lay on his chest, his erection trapped between their bodies and Dwalin's arms cradling him as their bodies rocked together, slow and deep, warmth instead of fire. 

He pressed kisses to Dwalin's neck and shoulder, tasting the warm salt of his skin while his hands roamed all over Nori's body. 

Time meant nothing, there was only Dwalin's skin, and Dwalin's hands, Dwalin's moans rumbling through his chest, Dwalin moving beneath him, around him, inside him. There was only Dwalin and pleasure until his legs ached from the slow rocking of his body onto him, until the sweat of their lovemaking slicked their bodies between them. There was only Dwalin until those big hands closed tight around his thighs, Dwalin's voice coming out in a growl, his head thrown back as he picked the pace up and Nori sat up, changed his angle until Dwalin's erection rubbed relentlessly against his sweet spot as he swirled his foreskin against the crown of his erection with an expert hand, chasing the last little bit he needed for his own climax as Dwalin spent into him. 

They came down together slowly, holding one another. Nori's head was tucked under Dwalin's chin, Dwalin still running his hands over Nori's body. Nori was just holding on to Dwalin, burrowing against his chest under the blankets they'd drawn back over themselves, and for some reason Dwalin didn't even mind. 

Dwalin's fingers found the scar on the inside of Nori's leg, just above his knee, traced the ragged edges of it. 

“It's my favorite.” Nori said, because he didn't know not to talk when Dwalin was touching him. 

“ _This?”_ Dwalin's surprise was obvious, “Why?” 

“Closest I came to breaking.” Nori said, curling up a little tighter to Dwalin at the memory. There were rules. All the interrogators broke them, a little here or a little there, especially with a frustrating prisoner like Nori. This interrogator disregarded them entirely. He'd been cutting up the inside of Nori's leg, asking how far up he was going to have to go before he talked, when Dwalin came in. He'd picked the interrogator up and punched him so hard he spun clear around before he hit the ground. 

“There are rules.” Dwalin had snarled, “ _Learn_ them. Follow them.” The look of terror on the interrogator's face had been a thing of beauty. Then Dwalin had ordered needles and medical thread brought, and sewn Nori up. It was a rough scar, an ugly scar, a scar without any honor attached to it, but it was his favorite. 

“You took care of me.” he said, because he didn't know if he could put the rest of it into words, but that was the heart of it. Dwalin had always taken care of him, and that scar was proof, whenever he thought of it. 

Dwalin rubbed the scar, like he could smooth it out, “He should _never_ have been an interrogator.” he said, and Nori couldn't argue with that. 

They could hear, faintly, the sounds of the rest of the Company starting their day, so they untangled themselves, and cleaned themselves up, and got dressed. 

Nori sat on the bed and began the task of brushing his hair – it had gotten much more tangled than normal – he might have to start putting it into a sturdier braid if this was going to keep happening, but he still didn't _know_ what they were, if this would happen again. 

“Could I?” Dwalin asked, reaching for the comb in Nori's hand. 

...that was... lovers then? Nori handed the comb to Dwalin, and the warrior settled himself behind him, beginning at the bottom of his hair, combing it gently, smoothing it affectionately as he went. 

Helping someone with their hair was not something anyone but kin and lovers did, no one else would... 

but Dwalin already didn't follow the rules, he touched Nori like no one else long before they ever considered lying together. 

“What are we?” he asked. 

“Dwarves, last I looked.” Dwalin said dryly. Nori shot him a look over his shoulder, and Dwalin sobered. 

“Companions.” he said, “Shield-brothers. Friends, I hope... Lovers, if you'd like?” there was hope on that final question. 

A shield-brother and a friend? More than the one to throw to the Wargs, but he'd already known he wasn't _that_ to Dwalin, for some reason. 

Lovers would end badly. It always did. It was so much easier to find a one-time thing, someone who was there and gone, fulfilling a need without emotion... but Dwalin would never be _that_ , would he? They'd already been tangled up together before this... and for _this_ , for how Dwalin made love, for his hands, for the way he held Nori... 

It might be worth ending badly. He would figure out eventually that Nori was a needy _child_ who wanted too much, but until then... 

“I would like that.” he said. Dwalin rubbed his shoulder affectionately and continued brushing his hair. 

It was downright _luxuriant_ to sit and let Dwalin brush his hair, running the comb and his fingers through it until it was smooth and untangled and not stopping there. Nori took the opportunity to rebraid his beard, which had started to unravel too. 

Dwalin finally stopped, handing the comb back, “I couldn't do your peaks if I tried.” he said regretfully. 

“It's not hard.” Nori said, but Dwalin shook his head, so he brushed his hair up and fastened it, and was ready for the day.

Dwalin rummaged around in the blankets and found the lid for the salve, handing the tin to Nori. He considered hiding it in his pocket or up one of his sleeves, but then decided to leave it on the bedside table. He didn't plan on having sex anywhere else, and if someone else from the Company spotted it it... it wasn't as though there weren't already rumors about them. 

“It's good salve.” Dwalin said, “Where did you get it?” 

“I went to the apothecary with Oin yesterday.” Nori answered, and Dwalin laughed slightly. 

“You were already planning?.. and Oin already knows... oh, to see the _look_ on his face...” he grinned. 

Nori didn't say anything. It would be easy enough to craft a lie, but... he didn't _lie_ to Dwalin. He might not tell Dwalin _all_ of something, but he didn't lie. 

Dwalin's smile died. “Nori?” he asked. “You didn't?” 

“I _am_ a thief.” he said, looking away. Dwalin's eyes were too sad, too _disappointed_ , and Nori had seen enough of that expression leveled at him to last a lifetime already. 

Hah, he'd known being lovers would end badly, he just hadn't realized _how soon_ that bad ending would come, and for the most unexpected reason... but he'd always been with other thieves before. Honest Dwarves didn't want anything to do with him, and this was why. 

Dwalin's hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing softly in circles with his thumbs. 

“Why?” he asked, and Nori could have come up with any number of excuses, about how he didn't want Oin shouting about it to the whole Company when Nori hadn't even dared expect they would actually become lovers, about how Men could get _funny_ about two males being together and he didn't want to cause problems while they were guests in Lake-Town, but in the end they _were_ excuses and that wasn't what he'd been thinking at the time at all. 

“I wanted it,” he said. “in case.” 

Dwalin was quiet behind him, wondering what he was doing, having bedded a thief who would steal from someone who was _giving_ things away. 

“Have you stolen anything from the Company?” Dwalin asked, and of _course_ that's where his thoughts would have gone. 

“No.” Nori said, “...not really?.. No.”

“Tell me.” Dwalin was running his hand down Nori's spine, his back arching against it involuntarily, because Dwalin knew his weaknesses, and he couldn't even be angry that he wasn't afraid to use them. This was the way they'd always been. 

“A meat pie from Ori and the princes' basket – but they _saw_ me eating it and gave me another – and scones when Dori and Bombur were baking... not _things_ , just...” Nori trailed off. 

Dwalin made a small sound, like a groan as he wrapped both arms around Nori, resting his head on the crook of Nori's neck. 

“You don't _ask_ , you never do...” he said, mumbled against his skin, “Back in the palace, you wouldn't ever take honey for your porridge when anyone was looking... I'll _kill_ Thjofr.” 

“Thjofr disappeared a _long_ time ago.” Nori said, not following Dwalin's thought process. Dwalin squeezed him firmly. 

“Don't steal any more?” he asked. 

“I'll try?” Nori answered, and Dwalin kissed the side of his neck before letting him go. 

“You can _ask_ , not just me, anyone on the Company.” he said, giving Nori one last affectionate caress as he climbed down off the bed, the look he gave him was sad on the edges but warm as he gestured him to follow with a tilt of his head, opening the bedroom door to the scent of breakfast.

…almost as though things _weren't_ over between them? 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with art of snuggles by the wonderful Sparkle!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/59410564824/you-know-whats-better-than-smut-or-cuddles-a


	23. ink and smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just talking and thinking, mostly.

.

Bilbo had gotten over the worst of his cold, and had commandeered the kitchen to cook. He complained about everything being the wrong size the entire time, but the smells were _delicious_.

Dwalin and Nori both served themselves from what was left of breakfast on the table – at least there was still bacon and sausages left.

...not that Dwalin could particularly _mind_ having missed the majority of breakfast, considering what he'd gotten instead.

He glanced toward Nori, who'd brushed his hair up higher than ever before. The thief, _his lover_ , was eying the baked goods the Hobbit was stacking on the counters, bright hazel eyes tracking everyone, measuring the angles of the room – seeing paths and possibilities, he would probably say – until he caught Dwalin's gaze and dropped his eyes back to his plate.

Oh Nori... that _was not_ what he'd _meant_.

“Bilbo.” Dwalin said, swallowing his mouthful of breakfast, “Can we have any of...” he gestured to the tarts and cakes.

Bilbo wiped flour off his nose, “Oh, right, you weren't here... Anything on _that_ counter is fair game, things over here are for later.”

Dwalin kicked Nori's boot under the table and gestured him to go get some with a turn of his head, and after the first instant of surprise, Nori did.

How could he make him understand that _not stealing_ didn't mean he couldn't have things, it just meant he had to ask?

“I learned to be quiet”, he'd said, speaking of the Dwarf who sired him, and Dwalin hadn't seen how deep that went before. Nori never asked. Nori took by stealth, or he went without, and that must have been something he learned from Thjofr, that it was always best not to ask. It had taken Nori _so long_ to learn to ask Dwalin for anything, and he was still _so_ cautious with it.

And Dwalin did not like to let his rage out, he _knew_ how badly that could go, but if he had Thjofr in front of him... Nori's sire would not survive for long.

What was a little more blood on a killer's hands? 

Nori came back with a small raisin cake that seemed to have stuck to its pan and broken, and an unevenly browned pear tart. He split them in half, and Dwalin took his share with a nod.

Even imperfect examples of Hobbit baking were _very_ good. He brushed the crumbs off his clothes and began to look for something to do with himself for the day. Nori followed with him, in the space to his side that had come to belong to him, nibbling on his cheese and pear tart.

Ori and the princes were in the common room. They'd moved some of the furniture back in, and Ori was sitting drawing – Fili and Kili sitting in front of him and trying not to move.

Nori stepped up beside the scribe, glancing curiously at his page. Ori tilted the page to give him a better view, and Nori very hesitantly rested his hand on his shoulder. The smile Ori gave him could have melted a block of ice.

“Oh, is that the pear tart?” Ori asked, “I didn't get a chance to try it...”

Nori offered the last of his tart to him; Ori opened his mouth instead of reaching for it, and Nori fed it to him.

“Mmm...” he said, leaning over to bump his shoulder affectionately against his big brother.

“Was there any more?” Kili asked eagerly, looking toward the kitchen.

“No moving!” Ori ordered, at the same time as Nori said,

“There was _one_ more.”, and Kili was gone.

Ori threw his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh, setting his drawing aside and nodding to Fili, who took off after his brother.

“It was looking good.” Nori said.

“Not _really_.” Ori said, blushing slightly, “I'm still getting used to this new nib... it's a lovely nib though, such good lines, I just have to learn it better.” He showed his new quill to Nori, who nodded encouragingly.

This was apparently all Ori needed. He pulled Nori down into the oversized chair with him, putting the quill in his hand and a fresh piece of paper in front of him.

“Try it out!” he said eagerly.

“I... never been good at drawing or _writing_...” Nori protested weakly.

“I know you can draw. I've _seen_ you draw maps.” Ori said. “and it doesn't _matter_ if it turns out bad. I have lots of ink and paper.”

Nori pondered the paper, turning the quill in his fingers. His hands were almost delicate, for a Dwarf, those long fingers so strong and clever and Dwalin _really_ wasn't ever going to be able to look at them again, now that he knew their skill...

Nori met his eye, smirking slightly as he realized where Dwalin's eyes had been, turning the quill in his fingers with _intent_ now, his fingers slowly caressing the air in a way that would seem innocent if he didn't _know_ , hazel eyes laughing at him.

He looked away, fighting the heat rising in his face. Not even a full _day_ they'd been lovers, and already Nori was trying to destroy him. He would not have expected that playfulness, but he wasn't going to _complain_.

Ori was looking between Nori and him, blushing.

“Mr. Dwalin?” he said, “I was hoping to draw portraits of the Company... maybe I could do yours this evening? You wouldn't have to sit still long.”

Dwalin nodded curtly and left them, Ori encouraging Nori to set _anything_ down on the paper. He passed Dori on his way out, the pretty merchant pausing in the doorway, seeing Nori and Ori bent together over the paper and smiling a little wistfully before turning away to leave them be.

Dwalin found Thorin in the hallway talking with Balin and Gloin about his negotiations with the Master of Lake-Town, and they made space for him in their circle.

They discussed the supplies they would need, how soon they would need to leave... and their conversation drifted to what they might find _in_ Erebor, what they remembered of the Mountain, what they might do once they were Lords in Erebor.

They lounged out in the hallway, smoking as Balin talked of the treaties they would be reviving, the political negotiations he could not wait to immerse himself in again, with Lady Dis – and Gloin talked of the mineralogical expeditions he could fund – and Thorin spoke of their people thriving in plenty again.

“And you, Dwalin?” they asked, “What will you do?”

“I've always been a soldier and a guard...” Dwalin looked down at his hands, shaking his head. He'd never been anything but a warrior and a guard, wasn't suited for anything else with his big killer's hands, but he wasn't sure anymore. He could hear Nori's screams in the Elf-King's dungeons, and he could remember the first time they'd caught Nori. He'd been a child still but they'd tortured him for information – a _child_ , who'd not had a choice in the kind of life he lived, who they should have _helped_ , and how miserable must he have _been_ to break at the first gentle touch? Maybe the most damning thing was the scar on Nori's leg, a personal failing of Dwalin's, proof that there was something _wrong_ with the guard if that could happen just under his nose... and it was Nori's _favorite_ , because Dwalin had found him in time and sewn him inexpertly back together.

“Captain of the guard?” Thorin suggested with a small smile, “Keep every criminal who sneaks into Erebor trembling in fear?”

“...don't know if I can.” Dwalin said, dropping his voice low, “I don't know if it's right anymore. There has to be a different way – a _better_ way – something that doesn't leave Dwarves...” He stopped himself. It wasn't his to say.

“Something that doesn't leave Dwarves screaming in the dark?” Balin finished gently, and Dwalin nodded.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Dwalin repacked his pipe.

“It was different in Erebor.” Thorin said, and he would know better than Dwalin. Dwalin had done nothing but train as a soldier in Erebor, he'd not considered the guard until after Azanulbizar.

“Aye, that it was.” Balin agreed, “Things were done differently. There were criminal protection laws... they didn't make it to New Belegost. We had other priorities.”

"Dis spoke of it, sometimes, but there were always more pressing matters..." Thorin added.

“The laws of the Iron Hills are based on Erebor's.” Gloin mused.

“We could hire experienced guards and lawyers from the Iron Hills.” Balin suggested.

“Do you think that's what you'll do?” Thorin asked, “Reform the way guard work is done?”

Dwalin shrugged. It was something he could consider.

“That'd be a thing to see, with _your_ reputation.” Gloin said... and that was true, wasn't it? Dwalin was the final threat, the one who never _had_ to hit anyone anymore because criminals started screaming everything they knew when he stepped into the cell. The interrogators might be the ones dealing pain, but Dwalin was the one who was feared, the one everyone knew could and would kill you.

How strange would it be that the guard that appeared in criminal's nightmares was the one pushing for kinder treatment for them? Who would trust that? Who would believe it?

If he didn't do it, who would?

“If we survive the Dragon, you'll get to see it.” Dwalin said.

.


	24. unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small amount of plot and then some smut.

.

Being Dwalin's lover was... different. Different but _good_. Not much changed when they were among the Company, except that Dwalin was more likely to rest a hand on him than he'd been before, and Nori could make him flush red to the crown of his tattooed head with little more than a _look_ , which was flattering.

“You're a _terrible_ Dwarf.” he would growl when they were alone, and kiss him, so he was fairly certain Dwalin _liked_ that.

Dwalin had also taken to asking for things for him, and then giving him a look that said, plain as words, 'see, you can ask'.

No one seemed to mind it, yet. It just fueled the speculation that Dwalin and Nori were lovers. Dwalin didn't seem to feel the need to confirm or deny anything, and Nori didn't either. It would make it easier when it ended, less awkward, if no one had _known_ that they were together.

Dwalin seemed to enjoy brushing Nori's hair, doing it whenever he had a chance. He wouldn't attempt to braid it though. Nori brushed Dwalin's hair, too, though he didn't need it as much. His hair was thicker, wiry under Nori's fingers, and he tended to sigh contentedly while Nori worked the comb through it. Nori would have braided it – it had _possibilities_ – but Dwalin didn't wear any braids, and any new ones would only have confirmed that they were lovers so he didn't.

The nights were the best part of being with Dwalin, together in the Man-sized bed, and not only when they were making love – and it was making love that they did. Even when they tumbled, trading strokes with their bodies tangled together, it was never _just_ a tumble. Even when they fucked it was never just a fuck; there was something _more_ in it, the way Dwalin held him afterward, the way they touched. The lovemaking was _so good_ , but even on nights when they didn't Dwalin still held him, would wrap himself around him and press a kiss to his shoulder or nuzzle into his hair before falling asleep. Nori almost never woke up without Dwalin's hand across his chest, or Dwalin's leg hooked around his, when he didn't wake up burrowed against the warrior's chest.

Dwalin held onto him in his sleep, so that at least... he must want as much as Nori?

The days spent in Lake-Town were not all with Dwalin. Ori was determined to spend time with him, his brother – he could still hardly believe he was allowed to claim him as a brother – sought him out every day. They drew together, though Nori was not good at drawing anything but maps, or talked about stories and legends that Ori had heard different versions of than Nori, or explored Lake-Town with other Company members, or sparred.

Nori sparred with everyone. He had to build his endurance back up, after Mirkwood and the Elf King's dungeon. Ori was fun to spar with, he was so earnest about learning to fight better. Nori pushed him to get better at his footwork – he could be _fast_ , if he wanted – but he was strong too.

Nori even sparred with Dori. It was Ori who had suggested it, _Nori_ wouldn't have. Dori left him alone, mostly, since Beorn's, but he wasn't _friendly_ with him.

Someone had mentioned that Dori tended to plant himself when sparring, standing still and depending on his strength, and there had been discussions on how to get him to practice moving more.

“He should go against Nori!” Ori piped up, grinning at him.

“Aye, you've got to _move_ to hit him!” Bofur agreed, and there were sounds of agreement from the rest of the Company. Nori sat still on his perch near the window. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to spar with Dori – they'd never fought when it wasn't serious. Dori left him alone, now, and didn't try to keep Ori away from him, but he didn't know how Dori felt about him. He didn't know if his mother's eldest would use the opportunity to try to hurt him... he was _very_ strong...

Dori nodded slightly to him, “Would you spar with me, Nori?” He asked. For a brief instant Nori considered making his escape through the window, but Ori was smiling and nodding at him encouragingly, and no one else in the Company seemed worried.

Nori nodded and got his mace while Dwalin settled himself by the door, folding his arms to show them off and staring Dori down... and that was comforting. Dwalin would make sure he was safe. That's what Dwalin did.

Dori squared himself, and Nori stopped in front of him, poised for motion. Dori's gray eyes were focused and direct, he nodded to start the round. Nori whirled away, mace flying out to tap him on the shoulder as Nori dodged behind him and the Company cheered at a good hit.

They fell into a rhythm quickly, Nori staying light and fast to draw Dori out of his comfortable patterns, Dori relying on his strength – but he didn't have the range and training Dwalin did, so Nori did well, especially once he'd gotten Dori's flail tangled around his mace and flung it away across the room, leaving Dori with just his sword.

Dori sparred by the rules. He didn't try to hit too hard, or hurt Nori. It was like sparring with any other member of the Company.

It was almost fun, and that was strange after so many years of Dori hating him, of never speaking when it wasn't a fight, of never touching without trying to hurt.

Dori was puffing by the time they broke, and Nori was breathing hard too. Dori bowed slightly to him, putting his sword away.

“That was a good match.” he said, “We should spar again, sometime?”

Nori only considered for a moment before nodding in agreement. If Dori wanted to try to be something kinder than just not-enemies, Nori could try too.

It was already more than he would have ever expected from his mother's eldest.

“I told you he'd make you move.” Bofur told Dori, clapping them both on the shoulder, “You can't pin that Dwarf down!”

“Not easily.” Nori agreed, shrugging out from under Bofur's hand and throwing a look at Dwalin with a slightly raised eyebrow, waited for the implications of 'pin down' to occur to him... and _there_ was the flush, red climbing up his cheeks.

Flattering that it was so easy to do that.

Nori smiled as he went to get something to drink.

.

There was a lot of packing to do the day before they left Lake-Town, making sure all their supplies were in order so they could leave at first-light. The Company all took advantage of their last day in a house, taking baths and most settling in for an early night to enjoy their beds. They'd be sleeping on the ground again soon enough.

Nori was sitting on the bed, putting his hair up in a sturdy braid for the night now that it had finally dried after washing, when Dwalin came in from his bath.

Nori took a moment to admire him in nothing but an oversized towel... and then in nothing at all as he threw the towel over a chair to dry. He was built thick, muscles and ink and scars... Nori wasn't sure there _could_ be a better illustration of everything a Dwarf was meant to be, and somehow he, a nothing thief, had managed to get him as a lover.

Dwalin climbed onto the bed and helped him out of his clothes, pressing him back onto the bed, and Nori would _never_ get tired of the feel of those big hands on his skin. He didn't hold back his moan as he shivered at the touch; Dwalin _liked_ it that he reacted strongly. Dwalin growled in approval and kissed him, and Nori would never _never_ get tired of that either.

Nori rubbed the ball of his thumb back and forth across Dwalin's nipple, enjoying the warrior's reaction, breathing in sharply as he pressed into it.

...In a bit he would move his hand downward... Dwalin liked his hands... maybe they'd go for a fuck tonight, their last in a bed, they wouldn't have time in the morning...

“I have a question.” Dwalin said, his fingers tangling in Nori's chest hair, tracing the shape of his collar bone.

Nori made encouraging noises, wrapping a leg around Dwalin to keep him close. He _shouldn't_ be so needy but Dwalin _seemed_ to like it, and Nori never _was_ smart enough not to go too far.

“When we fuck...” Dwalin said, “are you the kind who only likes to take? or do you like to give too?”

Nori stilled, searching Dwalin's blue eyes for any indication that... but no, trick questions were not Dwalin's method. It was an honest question, then, and that meant Dwalin might want him to...

Nori could feel heat rushing to his face at the thought, “I... like _both._..” he admitted, and Dwalin grinned, leaning in to nibble gently _gently_ up the side of his neck before whispering in his ear.

“Would you like to have me tonight, then?” he rumbled low, sending shivers down Nori's spine, “While we've still got a bed to do it on?”

“Yes...” Nori's voice was an embarrassingly high whine, “If you want? If you like? You would _let_ me?..”

“Why wouldn't I?” Dwalin asked, his voice still deadly-low seduction, “It _feels good_.” he pressed his body against Nori's, the sweet drag of warm skin against his and Nori was _so hard_ already. He slid his hand down Dwalin's body, played with his fingers across Dwalin's erection in the ways he'd found the bigger Dwarf liked best, kissing him long and slow to swallow his moans.

He reached lower, cupping his stones to caress them gently before massaging behind them, searching for the spot that... there, Dwalin groaned at the indirect pressure on the sweet spot, spreading his legs wider.

Oh, yes... Nori hadn't dared _hope_ to be allowed... but slow, slow, make it _good..._

“Your _hands_.” Dwalin mumbled against Nori's neck, stroking down his body to engulf Nori's erection in his big hand, so firm and warm and perfect. Nori arched his hips up into it with a moan as Dwalin shuddered on top of him.

Dwalin kissed him, harder than usual, demanding, and Nori was more than willing to yield, to bask in the heat of it.

Dwalin broke the kiss, going gentle on the end, soft brush of lips as he stretched against Nori. He grabbed the tin of salve from the bedside table, handing it to him.

“I want to feel those clever fingers in me.” he rumbled, blue eyes piercing into Nori as he rolled off him to lay belly-down, legs spread.

Nori wondered vaguely if his hair was going to catch on fire, with how hot his face was. It was _deeply_ unfair for Dwalin to _say_ things like that, in that _voice_ , while _looking_ like that... Nori was likely to catch on fire or spend himself completely untouched, and he wasn't sure which would be worse.

Nori rubbed the salve on his fingers to warm it as he moved between the warrior's legs, running his spare hand over the big muscles on that beautiful broad back as he slid his fingers into Dwalin's crease, massaging slowly with his fingertips until the muscle relaxed and he could slide a slicked finger inside.

Dwalin groaned something that might have been meant to be a word, writhing with his hips back against Nori's finger, tight muscle and soft heat and Dwalin enjoying it, wanting it... he would not have thought Dwalin would, but here he was, pushing back against Nori's finger growling 'more'... he _wanted_ it, and not gradually.

Nori carefully added a second finger, curving them down to search for Dwalin's sweet spot, pressing gentle and indirect until he could figure out how Dwalin liked it best. He leaned forward over Dwalin's back, rested his head against the flexing muscles as Dwalin shuddered at his attentions.

Dwalin groaned so low it was more of a throbbing rumble through his body than a sound, and Nori continued the motions that had given him _that_ reaction. Dwalin was practically purring, shuddering with that low groan, when Nori carefully pressed a third finger in. He pushed back into it with a half-breathless gasp and _this_ would be enough for Nori, feeling the heat and tightness on his fingers, lying across Dwalin's back and feeling every reaction he had, breathing the scent of his clean skin, soap and warm metal, as he rutted against Dwalin's leg. He wasn't sure when he'd started doing that, but the feel of Dwalin's muscular thigh flexing against his erection could be... it could _easily_ be enough with Dwalin pushing and moaning the way he was...

“...Nori...” Dwalin groaned, “Nori, now?” He was almost begging and Nori couldn't imagine turning him down, when he was so beautiful and hungry and wanted _him_ , wanted _Nori_. He grabbed the salve and slicked himself with a wasteful amount, but always better too much than too little, Dwalin almost whimpering at the loss of his fingers until he pressed his erection slowly into the bigger Dwarf.

Dwalin growled something, pushing back on him to take him faster than Nori would have dared press in, rocking back against Nori as he searched for the angle he wanted. He groaned into the pillows, bucking back hard against him so all Nori could do was hold on and try to match his pace. He could _feel_ the power in Dwalin's body, so big and so strong and letting Nori inside him into the heat and the slick tightness, _wanting_ him buried to the hilt in him... and Nori had to concentrate on _breathing_ or he wouldn't last.

“there... right there...” Dwalin gasped, tensing around him, and Nori held his pace and angle. Dwalin's entire back flexed, muscles standing out, his big tattooed fingers clenched in the sheets, sinking his teeth into the pillow as he snarled, bucking back against Nori.

The warrior could only take it for so long, Nori could feel the change as he decided he _had_ to finish, releasing the sheets to try to wrestle an arm beneath himself, but Nori beat him to it – sliding his hand down from Dwalin's hip to his erection, stroking it quick and firm, the tightness of his own climax building fast.

Dwalin spent with a muffled shout into the abused pillow, clenching down hard on Nori as his body tensed and shook, and collapsed in a loose pile on the bed. It only took a few more hard thrusts for Nori to follow him, clinging tight to the sweat-drenched back of the most perfect representation of _Dwarf_ as he spent into the heat of him in blinding pleasure.

He lay across Dwalin's back, listening to the hard thudding of his heart and feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

He drew himself out as he softened, unsure what he was supposed to do. Normally they held one another after sex, but this one had been different. It was rougher, and maybe it meant Dwalin just wanted a fuck and wasn't in the mood for closeness? Maybe he didn't want nuzzling and kissing and warm skin and soft touches, and it would be best if Nori cleaned himself up and went to bed? Nori wanted... but he should not. He was always asking so much from Dwalin, and...

Dwalin rolled over, eyes sleepy-soft , wrapping a leg around Nori, who'd been sitting frozen in indecision, and grabbed him, pulled him to his chest to hold him tight.

“mmm... _my_ Nori... 's _good_.” he mumbled, nuzzling into Nori's hair, winding his long braid around his hand, wrapping Nori up tight in his arms, and Nori relaxed. Dwalin _did_ still want. Nori pressed himself in close against Dwalin, kissed his neck and shoulder where he could reach until Dwalin leaned back and kissed him properly – slow and lazy and drowsy and _perfect_.

“You were all clean, now you've got to clean up again.” Nori said.

“mmm...” Dwalin agreed, “...a _terrible_ Dwarf did _dirty_ things to me.” but his eyes were soft and smiling, and he kissed Nori again. “...clean up in a little bit.”

“We could clean up together?” Nori suggested, the closeness after the trust and the pleasure making him bold, “I _think_ everyone's gone to bed?”

Dwalin made approving sounds, petting Nori, hands awkward in his post-pleasure bliss. “In a little bit.” he repeated, “Not sure I could _walk_ yet... you're too good.”

Nori smiled as he nuzzled his way under Dwalin's chin to hide his face against the warrior's collarbone.

He'd had _this_. No matter what happened afterward, with the mountain and the dragon, no matter how short or long a time Dwalin wanted to be his lover, he'd gotten to have _this_.

And it was so much more than he'd ever hoped.

.


	25. rumors and plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company heads for the Mountain

.

They took boats as close to the Mountain as the Men of Lake-Town would bring them.

Up close the Mountain was not... it was not the _same_ as Dwalin remembered. The forests were gone, everything desolate, and a cold wind out of the north whistled around them night and day as they rode their ponies toward the Mountain.

They were going _home,_ but the grim face of the Mountain chilled him to his core, and he wasn't the only one. They were all more subdued than they would usually be.

At night they all huddled together like they had in Mirkwood, for warmth as well as comfort. Ori was perpetually bracketed by Fili and Kili, the young Dwarves of the Company more affected than most and trying not to show it.

Nori sat beside Dwalin without waiting for an invitation on their first day out, watching him carefully as if to ask if it were _really_ allowed. Dwalin shifted closer, until he was pressed against his lover from shoulder to thigh, ignoring Balin's grumbled complaint as he had to readjust himself on his other side. He put an arm around him, and Nori leaned into him.

Nori didn't hesitate to sit beside him after that. His habits changed from tending to sit still and silent just outside the group to sitting still and silent pressed against Dwalin's side, though he did participate in the group more than he used to.

It only fueled the speculation – hardly treated as speculation anymore, accepted as fact – that he and Nori were lovers. The Company had of course noticed that Nori only allowed Dwalin and Ori to touch him. He had gotten better about it, he no longer ducked away from a smack to the back or a hand on the shoulder, but he only tolerated hands on him for a few seconds before he moved away. Ori could get away with a little longer, but Nori still was never in contact with him for long.

Dwalin, on the other hand, could put an arm around Nori and leave it for as long as he wanted – which is to say, indefinitely.

Nori _had_ hesitated before setting up his bedroll beside Dwalin's the first night, waiting for an invitation, Dwalin had rolled his eyes and gestured him over.

“...as if I'd want you sleeping _anywhere_ but beside me.” He'd whispered too quiet for anyone else to hear, and Nori didn't hesitate again.

They fell asleep side by side to share warmth, and more often than not woke up tangled up together. That was probably what pushed the rumors to be treated as _fact_ more than anything else. Dwalin didn't mind. He got to wake up with his arms full of Nori and his face buried in that soft silk hair most mornings. He only missed the privacy of thick walls they'd had in Lake-Town.

Nori did not give him the opportunity to brush his hair, and did not offer to brush his either, and he missed both. It was hypnotic to brush Nori's red-brown hair into a smooth sheet around him, until it gleamed. Dwalin wished his clumsy fingers could craft a braid that would do Nori's hair justice. It was surprisingly sensual to let Nori brush his hair, meager and ragged though his own locks were, Nori still treated it as though it were beautiful – running his fingers through it. He never put a braid in it, though he clearly had the skill. Dwalin wouldn't have minded letting everyone know that they were lovers, but Nori was still basically secretive in nature. He didn't do anything where the Company could see that would mark them definitively as lovers. They touched a lot for _Nori_ – but still not nearly as much as Fili and Kili and Ori who were constantly hanging on each other, or Bofur and Bombur who tended to cuddle for warmth and drag Bilbo in with them whenever the Hobbit looked cold.

Dwalin sometimes watched Ori. He'd not noticed before how _hard_ the youngest member of the Company tried to keep everyone happy. He obviously enjoyed spending time with the princes, but he always made sure to spend time with Dori too – which he also seemed to enjoy and his eldest brother clearly appreciated – and he also spent time with Nori, and that was still almost painful to watch. Nori looked at Ori as though he didn't know what to do with him, couldn't quite believe him, and Ori was like a puppy, so happy to have caught his attention. Ori wore his sweetness and innocence around him like his big cardigan, so it wasn't immediately obvious that it was _intentional_ that he was always starting conversations with Nori right next to Dori, and then trying to draw Dori into the conversation too – that he _knew_ what he was doing when he decided he wanted to sleep beside Nori and Dwalin instead of with the princes, and dragged Dori with him – and he _had_ been the one to suggest that Nori and Dori spar, too, and that had gone surprisingly well. The two still sparred from time to time, Dori sometimes sending Dwalin an exasperated look at the way he watched him like a hawk when they sparred.

Dwalin wasn't sure he _wanted_ to trust Dori with his lover, considering his history of hurting Nori. He just folded his arms and looked right back, the promise of a threat.

Neither Nori or Dori seemed to suspect anything of Ori, but Balin agreed with Dwalin that the little scribe _knew_ what he was doing. He'd snorted a gentle laugh beside Dwalin one evening, watching Ori draw both his brothers into an in-depth discussion about the finer points of a legend they'd all three heard different versions of.

“Very determined, that one.” Balin had said when Dwalin gave him a questioning look, gesturing toward Ori with his pipe, “he'll get them to reconcile if it's the _last_ thing he does.”

Dwalin managed to get a word with Ori while riding one day, urging his pony beside the little scribe's when they were finally getting into the foothills of the Mountain.

“You're trying to get your brothers together.” Dwalin said, and Ori jumped slightly, fidgeting in his gloves.

“Well, um... yes. Yes I am.” he said.

“Why?” Dwalin asked. Considering that Ori was the one who'd had the best view of Dori hurting Nori over the years, he wasn't sure why the scribe would _want_ them together.

“... _someone_ has to.” Ori said, looking forward to where Nori was riding beside Bofur, smiling at the miner's stories, “They _both_ want to, but they would never on their own.” Ori held up one hand, “Dori doesn't think he's allowed to try to approach Nori, he doesn't really know how to make amends, how to ask for Nori's forgiveness.” He held up his other hand beside it, “and Nori never held it against him in the first place. He has _always_ wanted Dori to like him, but he'll never ask for anything. Have you noticed? He never asks for _anything_. He'll wait for Dori to make the first move, but Dori wont.”

Ori looked at both his hands, “On their own, they'll never figure it out, so someone else has to...” he meshed his fingers together, looking up at Dwalin. His pony took the opportunity to veer of the path, and he quickly grabbed his reigns, steering it back into line, so Dwalin had time to bury his surprise. Of _course_ Nori still wanted Dori's approval, even if Dwalin didn't think he ought to.

“You should study politics with Balin.” Dwalin said approvingly. No one would _ever_ suspect Ori of political machinations, but if he really did understand people that well... Lady Dis herself might have a rival.

Ori blushed, looking away flustered.

“You think it's for the best? Them making amends?” Dwalin asked, and Ori considered it for a while before he answered.

“I do... because they _both_ want to.” he said, “They'll be happier, and I want them to be happy... and I want my family to be whole, as whole as it _can_ be, with _everything._..” he looked up at Dwalin, big eyes begging him to understand.

Dwalin nodded. He might not _like_ it, but he would continue staying out of the way.. as long as Dori didn't hurt Nori again.

.

They set up a camp on the western face of the Mountain, in a spot as sheltered from the wind as possible.

Thorin talked about how to search for the door while the Company set up camp. Nori, who'd been scaling every outcrop of rock for days, tapped the side of his fist against the cliff face, slapped his palm over the spot, and shot straight up it.

Dwalin had to admire how well he'd trained his stone-sense – to be able to know every handhold on a cliff face, and whether it could hold him, with a single touch – even if he'd developed the skill for dishonest reasons.

“Practicing.” He'd told Dwalin when asked _why_ he was climbing all over rocks. “Have to stay sharp.”

Nori was not a thief Dwalin had ever chased, but watching him go leaping up cliffs and scrambling over rocks at a full sprint, he almost wished he had. If he'd seen him like _this_ before, and not just bleeding and exhausted in a jail cell, he might have realized sooner how _attractive_ of a Dwarf he was.

Bombur stumbled away from the base of the cliff, sitting down hard.

“It's _beautiful..._ ” he said, staring at nothing.

“What is?” Gloin asked.

Bombur turned toward him, face still dazed, “Erebor.” he said.

“You can feel all the way to Erebor, from _here?”_ Balin asked, while everyone turned to stare at Bombur. He blushed at the attention.

“Just a little... the edges... the _strength_ of the structures, it's...” He drifted off, shaking his head in wonder.

Bofur clapped Bombur on the shoulder, grinning at him proudly, “Bombur's always been good for the big picture. I've never met anyone with better range.”

“Can you see where the door is?” Thorin asked.

“There are mine shafts... and things... but I couldn't really see...” Bombur said, ducking apologetically.

“He's not so much for the _details._ ” Bofur said, with a shrug, “I should be able to feel the secret passage if we get close enough, but they've probably tried to disguise it from stone-sense, if it's supposed to be such a secret.”

Thorin nodded resignedly and went back to his planing while everyone gathered around Bombur to press him for details of what he'd felt... the first glimpse of the inside of the Mountain.

.

With the cliff to protect them from the wind, the Company didn't camp so close together. Nori and Dwalin set their bedrolls up together at the edge of camp, not really far enough away for privacy... they couldn't afford to have their camp too spread out.

Ori had gotten folded in with the princes, so Balin kindly offered to set up his bedroll with Dori so he didn't have to choose between being cold and being subjected to the risk of flying limbs, as the princes tended to be _active_ in their sleep, and Dori accepted gracefully.

“Now _that_ would make a handsome couple.” Gloin commented very quietly as Dori and Balin set their bedrolls up.

Bofur nodded in agreement, taking a puff at his pipe.

Dwalin tried to push the very idea of it out of his brain, it was too... no.

“Balin never favored males.” he said.

“Dori's never shown an interest in _anyone_.” Ori piped up, keeping very quiet and pretending to work on his sketches of what Bombur had described of Erebor.

“I don't favor males either.” Gloin said at Dwalin, “But a Dwarf _that_ pretty might turn anyone's head...” He nodded at Dori with an eloquently raised eyebrow.

Oin reached out and smacked Gloin on the back of the head. “for Vali.” he said.

Gloin rubbed the back of his head, glowering at Oin. “And he says he's _deaf_.” he grumbled.

It was a delight and a torment to go to bed that night, everyone preparing for searching the next day. Dwalin lay on his side, the width of his shoulders blocking the view of them from anyone else in camp. Nori snuggled into his arms – more closeness than they'd had awake since they left Lake-Town, and not near enough privacy to do anything.

They kissed, warm and soft and better than he'd remembered, and he whispered what he'd do with Nori if he only could, strip him bare and explore him thoroughly before taking him slowly.... Nori breathed faster, his arousal pressed hard against Dwalin's front... so good to have this much, a torment to not have the privacy for more.

Nori slid his hands under the edges of Dwalin's shirt, running over his skin.

“How quiet can you be?” he whispered, those terrible/wonderful fingers reaching down to brush lightly over his erection. Dwalin closed his eyes, breathing carefully... oh _if only_ , but... 

“...not quiet enough.” It might have been the hardest admission of his life. “I'm sorry.”

Nori took it well, shrugging slightly and kissing him one last time before nuzzling under his chin to cuddle close to sleep.

Dwalin stroked his back, “Soon.” He promised, “as soon as we can.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record: Dori is ace and Balin is straight, but apparently Dwarves are like teenagers in their desire to gossip about potential relationships among their friends.  
> Particularly when both members of the proposed pair are so dapper and cute.
> 
> Now with adorable artwork of the company gossiping by the lovely Mia-newarcher  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/59730989885/chpt-25-touch-by-thorinsmut-dwalins


	26. stone sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Door is found, and stone sense is talked about. 
> 
>  
> 
> Just a reminder that this fic is tagged 'past child abuse'  
> Warning for someone sharing a triggering memory and misinterpreting everyone's reaction to it.

.

Nori could have covered more ground on his own, but he'd been assigned Kili to search with, the younger prince being deemed the second-quickest climber. Thorin seemed to have decided that it would be safer for none of the Company to go off alone.

Nori chafed a bit at having to lead a rookie across possibly unstable rock, but Kili wasn't the _worst_ he'd ever led, and most of the rock they were on wasn't bad. Kili _listened_ when Nori told him it was important to step _exactly_ where Nori did, and he kept up all right if Nori stuck to a moderate pace.

He caught Kili copying his method of tapping the rock and placing his hand over it, a look of intense concentration on the young prince's face.

“You have any stone-sense?” Nori asked him, and Kili shrugged. Most Dwarves did, at least a little, and could learn to feel at least major faultlines – the skill and training to do what Nori did – judging the stone at a run, or range like Bombur's which was frankly impressive, or the precision of a gemcutter, were rarer gifts. For a Dwarf to be _completely_ stone-blind was rare.

“You'll probably have better luck with your feet.” Nori said, demonstrating kicking the nearest outcrop the way Bofur and most Dwarves did. Kili obediently copied him.

“Do you think you could teach me?” He asked, big puppy brown eyes. He should have been training for _decades_ already if he was ever going to be any _good_ , but it couldn't hurt to give him a few pointers, even if he did turn out to be stone-blind.

It was a decent week they spent exploring, and even if it was sometimes frustrating, Nori _did_ appreciate the chance to practice his skills and build his endurance back up. Whenever they had a break Nori tried to describe what Kili would be feeling if he were feeling _anything_ with stone-sense, tried to describe how to focus it, and had him kicking outcrops whenever he could. If Kili were going to feel anything, he would, and no possible explanation was adequate. It just took practice.

Nights were good but frustrating, so close, but Dwalin unable to be quiet enough to feel comfortable _doing_ anything with the Company nearby. Still, laying with Dwalin and _not_ doing anything was better than any other alternatives he had. _Not_ tumbling Dwalin even sounded better than tumbling anyone else... no one else would hold him the way Dwalin did, and that made it better than some brief release.

Nori and Kili had spent a long day, searching far and going over some unstable rock that he _maybe_ shouldn't have been taking the prince over, getting back to camp late only to discover that Bofur had discovered the hidden door at midday and everyone else had been close enough to get word to stop early.

It was just a thing that happened, no one's fault, but Kili seemed to take it as a personal betrayal. He flopped across Ori and Fili's laps and complained until someone shoved food in his hands. With extra time, Bilbo and Bombur had collaborated and made a good thick stew, and ash cakes to go with it, and finished off with a campfire cobbler of dried apples and honey to celebrate finding the door.

Nori leaned against Dwalin's warm solid side and savored his cobbler, the Company in celebration around them at having found the door, planning to move their camp to the doorstep.

Dwalin was eying his cobbler, since he'd finished his own too quickly, and Nori held his bowl out, letting the warrior take a piece of apple.

“ _Now_ who's the thief?” he asked.

Dwalin bumped him with his shoulder, “Not stealing, you _offered_.” He pointed out, blue eyes smiling down at him – and even with the cold wind, even having done a lot of hard work that didn't have to be done, even with maybe having to face the Dragon that killed his parents very soon – life could not have been more perfect.

.

The door was not terribly impressive to look at, after hours of hauling things up the rocks since the ponies couldn't make the climb. Thorin dropped his heavy load and nodded toward the door.

“Can you find the keyhole?” he asked. “Bofur can't get that much detail.”

Nori put his stuff down and shook his hands out, relaxing and focusing. It was finer detail than he usually went for, but if he was careful he should be able to...

He tapped the side of his fist against the stone door and pressed his palm to it.

Lace danced under his hand.

“Oh...” he breathed, suddenly understanding Bombur's reaction to feeling the edges of Erebor, if there was construction like _this_...

He went back in for a second feel. It was _beautiful_ , carved deep inside the door where it would never be seen, lines of varying depths and thicknesses and...

ah...

Complicated enough that it completely disguised _where_ the keyhole and the door mechanisms were, to thwart Dwarves like Nori.

He stepped back, shaking his head, “They disguised it.”

Thorin nodded, not seeming surprised.

“They were serious about keeping it secret.” Bofur said, dropping his things and stretching, “I couldn't feel it until I was _right_ on top of it.”

Nori began to help organize the campsite, while Thorin and Balin began discussing some Elf-sounding stuff about thrushes and the sunset of Durin's day and Kili began kicking rocks the way Nori had had him practicing.

“Training your stone-sense, Kili?” Bofur asked, and the dark-haired prince shrugged, grinning back at him.

“Trying to.” He said, “I don't know if I have much, but Nori was telling me how...”

Bofur laughed, “He must have had a nicer teacher than I did, if he's letting you wander around at your own pace.”

“Why? What did your...” Kili asked, but Bofur was already shoving him flush against the rocks, until he was pressed tight to the stone.

“Now, kick the rock until you can tell me what it's like behind it.” he said, “That's how _I_ learned.”

“This... isn't very comfortable.” Kili said.

“Nope!” Bofur agreed, letting Kili go, but the prince didn't move away, his face setting stubbornly as he kicked the stone.

“Took me days to get it.” Bofur said, “I thought I _hated_ stone, until I finally did... ah, that's the best feeling. It was worth it, but it must have been nice to have a nicer teacher.” He smiled over at Nori.

“No, I learned the same way.” Nori corrected him, finding the pipe weed and deciding to take a break, “...took me _weeks,_ shoved into a crevasse in the rocks every day.” he'd been miserable, a needy, whiny child sobbing alone in the rocks day after day, not sure he was _ever_ going to be able to...

“Weeks?” Bofur looked horrified.

“I was slow.” Nori shrugged, packing his pipe carefully. “The problem was I was _kicking_ the rock, when I'm better...” he lifted a hand, wiggling his fingers. Thjofr had been horrified too with how long it took him... and then when Nori _did_ feel it, it was with his _hands_ like some poncy gemcutter.

“I'm surprised you didn't give up, or your teacher didn't tell you you didn't have it in you.” Bofur said.

Nori shrugged again, “No get of _his_ was going to be stone-blind. He tanned my hide every day until I got it. I wouldn't have been any use at all if I couldn't feel the stone.” Thjofr had made _that_ clear. Nori wouldn't have survived long, either, not out in the bad rock.

He lit his pipe and took a deep puff... noticing that the Company were very quiet, and looking at him, except for Dori who was looking away with his shoulders hunched.

“I'm sure you'll learn faster than I did, Kili.” he said lightly, “I wasn't a bright child.”

Hadn't been and still wasn't, still the same snot-faced child who couldn't learn to shut up already, couldn't learn that no one _wanted_ to hear and no one _cared_ – making the same amateur mistake of telling people things they didn't need to know. No wonder they stared at him.

Ori plopped down beside him and tried to borrow his pipe for a drag, but Nori easily kept it out of his way, and Ori settled for kissing him on the cheek in retaliation, smiling. While he was distracted with that, Dwalin came up on the other side and stole the pipe from his hands, taking a long drag before giving it back and settling in beside him.

“Thjofr was a mean bastard and I want to kill him.” He said quietly, leaning against Nori's side.

“I'm better than he ever was. I was already better than him, when he disappeared.” Nori said, just as quiet, just to Dwalin and Ori, and Ori smiled at him, and Dwalin put an arm around him... and it was alright because he had them, his brother and his lover, because for some reason they liked him.

“Thief.” he accused Dwalin, keeping his pipe away from Ori again.

“You can call me a thief when I've stolen more than you.” Dwalin answered.

“So never?” Nori said.

“Exactly.” Dwalin grinned, bumping his shoulder against him, and it was alright.

It really was.

.


	27. thief's bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone is comfortable with Nori's skills.

.

There was not much to _do_ while they waited for Durin's day and tried to open the door. Everyone spent some time at it, but nothing worked and they just had to _wait_.

Kili seemed determined to learn to use stone-sense, plastering himself to the rocks and practicing for a few minutes whenever he could.

Nori worked on making maps of what he and Bofur could feel of the passage beyond the door, and teaching Bilbo how to keep a map in his head, so he would be able to bring back a more reliable report when he went down into the Mountain.

Dwalin watched him with Kili and Bilbo. Nori wasn't the kind of teacher who gave praise easily, but neither did he tend to become angry. He explained things patiently, and he stopped if his students became frustrated or tired.

Considering the story Nori had told of how he'd been forced to learn his stone-sense, and considering the little bits and pieces he'd gathered about Thjofr, Dwalin couldn't imagine he'd been taught to make maps any more gently. It hurt, sharp in the center of Dwalin's chest.

Dwalin didn't know how he'd survived Thjofr with even a scrap of loyalty or kindness in him, but Nori had. Kindness that would give Ori his last piece of food when they were starving. Loyalty that would see him tortured by Goblins to protect the Company.

And all he wanted in exchange was the kindness he _never_ expected to be given. It made Dwalin want to wrap himself around Nori and never let him go... but there was really nothing he could do. They were camping closer together, now, in the cramped quarters of the doorstep, so they couldn't share even as much as they'd had in the lower camp.

“Better, you got the scale right.” Nori said and Bilbo nodded with a pleased smile. Nori scrubbed the simplified charcoal map of the area surrounding the Company's house in Lake-Town off the rock with some sand.

“I'll be as good as you, soon.” Bilbo said.

Nori picked up the piece of charcoal, drawing fine detail with quick, confident strokes.

“Thats... that's Bag End!” Bilbo said, “But that was so _long_ ago...”

Nori nodded and continued adding fine details. “You keep the fine silver here... little pretty bits and bobs on the mantlepiece, not worth much... books here, some of them worth a lot to the right buyer, the food and the pipe-weed's in here, and I'll be willing to bet you keep your mother's lace and jewelry, if she had any, in here.”

Nori leaned back from his drawing, putting the charcoal down.

Bilbo reached out to touch the drawing gently, longing clear on his face, “Bag End... you got it all right. You were only there _one evening_...” He looked at Nori with wonder before turning back to the map, walked his fingers through the front door and into his reading room, rested them on the chair by the fire, his eyes looking suspiciously bright.

“I was practicing this long before you were born.” Nori said, quietly, reaching out to _very_ briefly touch Bilbo on the shoulder. “You're learning fast.” he said. He stood and moved away from Bilbo and the map, signaling the end of his lesson. Bofur quickly took his place beside Bilbo, getting the Hobbit to smile at something he said.

Nori looked over toward Kili. The young prince had decided that he was tired of kicking rocks while standing, and had chosen to try it laying down. He had, of course, fallen asleep and was now snoring with his face smushed against the rocks. Dwalin could _see_ Nori decide he wasn't needed, watched those bright hazel eyes begin searching out his perches, deciding which one to go sit in to watch and be silent and still and forgotten.

Dwalin caught his eye and invited him over with a slight turn of his head. Nori joined him where he sat, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight despite the cold.

He put an arm around Nori, and Nori leaned into him slightly, and it was good.

.

Dragon fire.

Even after the dulling of time, the memories were still the stuff of nightmares. Dwalin had hoped never to see or feel it again, but he had. The Hobbit had roused the Dragon out and the Company only barely escaped into the Mountain before he came roaring down on them – but what escape was it, truly? They'd 'escaped' from a Dragon into his _den._

The stone shuddered under their feet as Smaug assaulted the doorstep, roaring his rage.

Dwalin bit down hard on the terror, pushing it back, could see Thorin and Balin and Oin doing the same thing in the meager light of the torch, could see Dori shaking all over as he clung to Ori with the whites visible all around his eyes, could see the horror on the faces of those who _hadn't_ experienced the Dragon before.

“We have to move!” Bofur said, grabbing what few of the Company's belongings they'd managed to get in the few minutes warning they'd had. “The stone won't hold.”

Nori twisted out of Dwalin's arms and grabbed the ropes they'd hauled Bombur up to the door with as they all followed Bilbo deeper into the Mountain. Nori was dead-pale, his breath shaking but his hands steady as he coiled the ropes and attached them to his makeshift pack as they trotted down the passage.

Nori had _seen_ the Dragon.

He'd been helping haul Bombur up, untying the ropes because he was the fastest at it while everyone else hustled into the Mountain. The sight of Nori freezing, looking upward as a blast of hot air burst over them would be visiting Dwalin in his nightmares, he was sure.

It had been all instinct and no thought that had Dwalin bolting out of the relative safety of the passage to grab Nori and pull him into the Mountain just ahead of the first blast of fire – Thorin and Bifur and Gloin slamming the door shut behind him.

The rumbling crash of a rockslide echoed down the passageway behind them with a puff of gritty air... and now they really _were_ trapped. They all stopped and listened to it.

“What do we do now?” Fili asked, looking toward Thorin. Kili was clinging to him with a white-knuckled grip and Fili was holding him back just as tight, but still trying to look grown-up and not like he was skirting the edges of panic, just like the rest of them.

Thorin swallowed hard, squaring his shoulders and breathing deep as he gathered himself.

“We cannot go back the way we came.” He said, looking at Balin, who nodded, “and we cannot stay in here with the Dragon... so we have to find another way out, before the Dragon returns.”

Thorin took another deep breath, “Balin... can you think of any likely options... Oin, Dwalin?”

“The guard post?” Balin suggested, “If I remember the paths correctly, it shouldn't take too long to make it through the Mountain to it.”

Dwalin nodded in agreement, he could remember it from his days training to be a soldier. It was a good defensible spot on the outside of the Mountain, with a good long view – though what good that would do against a Dragon he didn't know.

“The guard post.” Thorin nodded. “You probably remember the paths better than I do. Lead on.”

Balin nodded and took the torch from Bilbo, setting a quick pace through the dead and silent Mountain, full of still air and the scent of Dragon-smoke. They kept far from the central parts of the Mountain, passing buildings desolate and empty that _still_ outshone anything they'd built in New Belegost, dark and windows staring down at them as they rushed past.

.

Thorin cursed when they came across the spot of bad rock, long years of neglect and the violence of the Dragon on an already-weak spot of rock had turned it into a fault, cracks spiderwebbing what of the path hadn't fallen down, the cliff above rough and crumbling, boulders clearly having fallen from it.

“That's too unstable.” Bofur said, herding the Company back, “We can't...”

“We'll have to find a way around.” Balin sighed.

“Any path _around_ will take _hours_ longer and put us directly in the Dragon's path, if he returns.” Thorin protested.

“A thief's bridge.” Nori said, tapping a nearby pillar and pointing to the next point of the path's curve, where there was another pillar. “Two ropes between these.”

“Even _if_ we could throw a rope over there, we have _no way_ to tie it.” Thorin snapped, turning away from Nori to talk options with Balin again. The Company sat down, huddling in groups and passing around what water had been salvaged from camp while Thorin railed.

Nori repacked his makeshift pack, the random belongings he'd picked up from camp, to make it more balanced. He recoiled the ropes very carefully and hunkered down quietly at the edge of the group.

He tapped the side of his fist to the path and placed his palm over the spot, intensely focused, and Dwalin knew what he was going to do. He hunkered down beside Nori, his shield-brother and his lover and his friend, put a hand on the smaller Dwarf's shoulder.

“ _Someone_ has to, and only I can.” Nori whispered, defending the decision Dwalin hadn't even questioned.

“I've seen too many thieves fall.” Dwalin said, and he _had_. He chased them and they danced right into the bad rock and they didn't always live.

“Not _me_.” Nori said, a flash of teeth like a fierce smile.

“Be careful.” Dwalin requested, and Nori nodded, meeting his eye.

“Hold this.” he said, handing the ends of both ropes to Dwalin – they were attached to his pack so they would spool out as he went.

 _tap-palm_ , Nori's hand went on the path, those skillful hands that were his life, beautiful copper-green and gold eyes staring out hard at nothing, _tap-palm, tap-palm, tap-tap-tap-palm_...

and Nori was sprinting full speed across the shattered path, bouncing up onto the wall here and there, picking out his footsteps as precisely as a dancer, disturbing not a single pebble, flinging his hand out to slap the cliff wall at intervals. Dwalin clung to the ends of the rope, sending a wordless prayer to the Maker to guide his feet to fall only on rock that could hold him.

“Nori!” Dori screamed, the first of the Company to notice, and in an instant the rest of the Company was up, staring after him with shock and horror on their faces.

“What is he _doing?”_ Thorin roared.

“nonononono!” Bofur was saying, kicking at the cliff and staring after Nori, “It won't _hold_ him, it _can't_...”

Kili threw himself at the cliff beside Bofur, kicking desperately at the rock, trying to feel what the miner was feeling.

“Nori, Nori, Nori...” Ori was chanting, tears in his eyes and biting at his knitted mitts as he stared after his brother... and if Dwalin didn't have his hands full he'd have turned the scribe's face away, so he wouldn't have to _see_ if Nori didn't make it.

“What is he doing!” Thorin hissed at Dwalin.

“Taking the rope across, to make a bridge for us.” Dwalin said evenly, eyes never leaving Nori, feeling the vibration of Nori's every motion in his hands on the rope.

“This should have been _discussed_.” Thorin growled.

“He _tried_.” Dwalin reminded, and he was _done_ with the conversation.

It was a handful of heartbeats and an eternity later that Nori leapt lightly down onto solid rock again. In a few quick steps he was at the pillar he'd chosen. He tapped it with his fist and slapped his hand over it, then tied both ropes around it and looked over at the Company, still staring breathlessly at him.

“Tie your ends off, Dwalin, as tight as you can.” he called back, putting his pack down and sitting on it, smiling back at them calm as you like.

It only took Dwalin a few moments, with the help of Bifur and Gloin, to get the ropes tied across so tight they hummed when plucked, mirroring their placement to what Nori had tied on his side.

“Ooooh...” Kili said, eyes wide and the hugest smile on his face, pressed against the stone. “Fili... _Fili_... the faults go like...” he made upward gestures, fingers splaying out, and downward gestures, and forward gestures and then kicked the wall again, “It's like... it's like...” he began to follow the cliff along, face full of wonder.

Bofur grabbed him by his jacket and hauled him back onto sturdy stone. “Aye. Congratulations. It's beautiful.” Bofur said, “But those pretty faults can _kill you_.”

“But _Nori_...” Kili protested.

“Nori is as mad as a box of cats, to go into _that.”_ Bofur said, and as if to prove him right Nori was ambling across the horribly wispy looking 'bridge' of two ropes, walking on the bottom one and lightly resting his hand on the top one.

“Keep your balance centered on the bottom rope.” He said, “The bridge is as stable as you are. If you start wiggling...” He demonstrated, shifting his weight back and forth, and suddenly the 'bridge' was like a living thing beneath him, a snake trying to buck him off. He recentered himself, and it stilled. He hopped off onto the near side.

“One at a time. I'll go last.” he said, gesturing them all on.

“That was reckless and dangerous.” Thorin growled, scowling at Nori... and it was just the way Thorin _was_ , he did not like being startled or surprised and he did not _think_ before he spoke, and he was already pushed to his limits by the Dragon. If Thorin's frustration were directed at _him_ , Dwalin would know not to take it personally, but the brief flicker of hurt on Nori's face before he hid it proved he was – the same way he'd taken the Company's reaction as condemnation when he'd given them a glimpse of Thjofr's cruelty.

“I don't want to be here when the Dragon comes back.” Dwalin said, hand on Nori's shoulder and angling himself between Thorin and Nori, “Nori made us a bridge. Let's use it.” …and he couldn't believe he was advocating walking across a gorge on nothing but a rope, but between that and the Dragon...

Ori had flung himself onto Nori, hugging him tight as the rest of the Company began getting their packs back on, eying the bridge distrustfully.

“That was _awful_.” Ori said into Nori's shirt, “I was so scared you were going to _fall.”_

Nori had tensed at Ori's hug but he made himself relax, patting Ori's back with a little smile, “On _that_ stuff? It's nothing. I've _slept_ in worse rock.”

“No.” Bofur said, “That's... you shouldn't have made it _three steps_ into that. There's not a stable rock _in_ it.”

Nori shook his head at Bofur, “This was _easy._ A rock doesn't have to be stable to be stable _enough_ for someone quick and light on their feet.”

Bofur shuddered, kicking at the wall and looking at the broken path, “No.” he said again, but that was all. Dwalin stayed with Nori and watched the Company curse and wobble their way across the rope bridge, until he was the last one left.

“Even if it _was_ easy to you, it was terrifying to watch.” Dwalin said, Nori leaning into the hand on his shoulder as he idly balanced three small rocks on top of each other, “If I'd had to watch you fall, I...” his voice betrayed him and he couldn't... he squeezed Nori's shoulder hard.

“I _lived_ in the bad rock.” Nori said, “I was leading people through worse as a _child_.”

Dwalin nodded. This was a skill that Nori had, and he had to trust it, but it screamed against his every instinct to keep away from bad rock.

“I'll be going across it again. I want the ropes.” Nori said, quietly, as Bombur collapsed off the rope safely into his family's arms, and it was Dwalin's turn.

“...I know.” Dwalin said, testing the ropes, even though they had served everyone else just fine, “I'd kiss you for luck... this won't be pretty.” He climbed up onto the ropes and began a journey that would likely be visiting him in his nightmares, on a wobbly rope high above certain death.

Balin was there when he _finally_ made it across, most of the Company looking as shaken as Dwalin felt. Dwalin was just happy to have stone under his boots and someone to hold onto.

“...what is he doing now?” Thorin said, “...he's _untying_ it?”

“He wants to keep the ropes.” Dwalin said as Nori dropped the ropes from his side. Gloin began gathering them up onto the near side.

“Blood and shale, I can't watch that again.” Bofur said, turning away as Nori braced himself, felt the stone, and began running back over the bad rock.

It was just as hard to watch the second time. Balin made a small sound of protest and Dwalin released him, he hadn't realized he was holding on to him that hard – killer's hands too strong, always hurting without meaning to.

This time he could watch Nori's face, and while the smaller Dwarf looked _focused_ , he didn't look worried or afraid – as if this really _were_ routine to him.

Nori landed on solid stone and scooped his pack up, accepting the ropes from Gloin with a nod and hooking them to his pack.

The Company continued on, following Balin and hoping to make it out of the Mountain before the Dragon returned. Dwalin walked beside Nori... so many times of seeing him in danger today, he just wanted to wrap around him and hide somewhere no one would ever find them. The best he could do was walk beside him, their arms brushing now and then.

Ori had had to reassure himself that Nori was ok, walking with him for a little while before going back to Fili and Kili – Kili who was kicking every stone he could, thrilled at what he was finally starting to be able to sense.

Thorin walked beside them, briefly, and if Dwalin hadn't known Nori so well he wouldn't have noticed him tensing in response.

“You saved us a great deal of time.” Thorin said, reaching out and squeezing Nori's shoulder in gratitude, letting go just before Nori would have shrugged out from under it. The King nodded to Nori, and then made his way back up the group to walk near Balin.

Nori watched him go, then threw a questioning look at Dwalin.

“He lashes out when he's afraid.” Dwalin said, wondering if he was betraying Thorin by telling Nori, “but he _does_ try to be fair when he cools down.”

Nori looked down, nodding slightly, “The Dragon is...”

“He was _afraid_ you were going to fall.” Dwalin interrupted, “He was afraid because a member of his Company was in danger. We all were.”

Nori had no response for that, and they walked on, hands brushing as they followed Balin and the torch and the slim hope that they could get back out of the Mountain before Smaug came back in.

.


	28. guard post

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On watch in the guard post

.

Nori perched in the lookout on top of the guard post, keeping the first watch while the Company settled down to rest below in the building. He occasionally caught whiffs of coal smoke from the stores that had been in the guard post, the Company keeping warm around the stove. He had a blanket wrapped around him, one of the precious few that survived the destruction of the camp, to ward off the worst of the chill. 

It was all waiting, now. Watching and waiting for the Dragon to return from wherever he'd gone. 

Nori was good at waiting, waiting for just the right moment to cut the strings of someone's purse, waiting in small cramped places, sometimes for hours, until the coast was clear and it was safe to continue the job or escape. 

Nori shuddered. He was _good_ at waiting, he just wished he had something better to wait for than a Dragon. 

Nori had _thought_ he understood fear. 

Then he saw a Dragon flying down onto him. 

He had never in his life _frozen_ from fear, not until that moment. Dwalin was the only reason he'd survived. Nothing in the world could have felt better than those big hands grabbing him, those strong arms wrapping around him as he was dragged to safety. 

His fingertips brushed across his chest, remembering the warm weight of Dwalin's arm squeezing him, as his eyes scanned the valley and the sky. 

At least there was a _little_ more privacy in the guard post, not enough for _much_ , but Dwalin had taken full advantage of what there was. He'd pinned Nori in a quiet corner, but despite the intensity and heat in his blue eyes he'd kissed as gently as ever, slow and quiet and thorough, until Nori would have been moaning if he weren't worried others of the Company would hear and come looking for them. His hands, so strong and so gentle, running all over Nori's body – a claim and a promise that left him shuddering and aching for more. 

Nori's fingers made their way to the back of his neck, tracing the ghost heat of Dwalin's fingers where they'd finally stopped, cradling the back of his head, tilting it back just a little, to get the kiss just that _little_ bit deeper. So desperately good and not nearly enough, not when he wanted all of Dwalin's skin against him, wanted to be filled by him, wanted all the heat and tenderness that was to be made love to by Dwalin. 

It had ended far too soon, Dwalin resting his forehead against Nori's as they just _breathed_ and tried to get themselves under control – Dwalin gently petting Nori's hair and back, Nori's hands on Dwalin's broad chest and shoulders. 

“Nori...” Dwalin had whispered, and Nori couldn't answer, couldn't trust himself to say a word or he would beg for what he wanted and they couldn't _have_ without the entire Company knowing. 

“If I hadn't had another chance to...” Dwalin started, but anything he would have said was lost, Kili bouncing through the building searching for Nori to teach him how to focus and understand what he was feeling with his stone-sense, and they parted before they were discovered. 

Dwalin had looked at him the same way he had after Nori went across the little spot of bad rock, the way almost the entire _Company_ had been looking at him afterward. If Dwalin was to be believed – and of _course_ he believed Dwalin – they had been afraid. 

Afraid he had been going to fall. Afraid _for_ him.

 _Dori_ had been afraid for him, afraid enough to scream when he saw where Nori was, and _that_ was... 

but it hadn't been _anything_ really, that little spot. Nori would not have gone into it if he was going to _fall._ The stone of Erebor was so beautiful, the strength of the construction overwhelming, even rock that had broken was more stable than some of what he was used to in New Belegost. 

Bofur was right, there hadn't been a stable rock in it, and were he untrained he wouldn't have made it three steps, but Nori saw paths and possibilities. That was what he _did_. He could feel the stone, feel it and know what it could handle, and what it was capable of, and he knew his own body and what it was capable of and what forces it could and would exert on the stone. He knew what his body could do, and he could feel what the stone could handle, and where they met he saw his path. 

It hadn't been dangerous, not really. Nori didn't make mistakes, not when he had the time to feel the rock at leisure before he tackled it. Dangerous was having no choice but to run across rock that couldn't handle his weight, to have to choose to step on rocks that would fall under him and only _hope_ that he was fast enough to dance on the edge of the rockslide, that he would reach more stable rock before he ran out of unstable ones. Dangerous would have been trying to take the entire Company across the bad rock. The younger, lighter members of the Company would _probably_ have made it, if they followed him carefully. The heavier warriors... even Nori couldn't see a path that would have held them. 

Nori forced himself to _breathe_. That _hadn't happened_. The Company were safe, all safe. He'd made them a thief's bridge and no one had had to be left behind. No one had fallen. 

The thought of losing even _one_ Company member was... unthinkable. Too painful. How many people had he known that fell in the bad rock? but not the Company. No. 

Nori had never spent as much time with _anyone_ as he had with the Company, not since Thjofr and that had been _different_. With Thjofr, Nori would be thrown to the guard if it was the price of his sire's escape, and he would have done the same. 

The Company was different, everyone _cared_ and maybe that's what Dwalin had meant when he'd said, so long ago in Lady Dis' second pantry, that that's _not_ how a Company worked. 

That everyone took care of each other. That _no one_ would be thrown to the Wargs. 

Nori had never had anyone who would put themselves in danger for him, the way Thorin had, prying him out from under the Goblin king; the way the Company had, keeping the door open until he was inside even though the Dragon was so close; the way Dwalin had, running out to save him from the Dragon when he froze. 

Dwalin... 

He was the _very best_ lover Nori had ever had, the very best _anything_ he'd ever had... and it would end badly. It always ended badly because Nori wanted too much and he wanted more from Dwalin than anyone he'd ever been with before. 

That is... if it had the time to end badly. If they survived the Dragon's return. Bilbo _said_ Smaug had a weak point under his arm, but how would they ever get that _close_ to use it? 

Nori drew his knees up to his chest, readjusting his blanket against the cold, keeping his watch on the unchanging valley and starlit sky. 

The sound of boots on the steps to the lookout roused him, and Dwalin came into view, carefully carrying two steaming mugs, a sweet spicy scent wafting out. 

“Bombur found some spiced honey that was sealed tight.” Dwalin said, smiling as he sat beside Nori and handed him one of the mugs. When Nori left for his watch Bilbo had been helping Bombur go through the guard post's pantry, finding beans and grains that were still sealed tight and good, and others that had turned to dust. The Company had enough _very bland_ food to last them a while, the addition of a little honey would help break the monotony. 

“It's just honey and water, but it's hot... it's _cold_ on this side of the Mountain.” Dwalin said. Nori opened his blanket, and Dwalin scooted closer. He wrapped the blanket around them both as much as possible and leaned into the warmth of the bigger Dwarf's side as he sipped his drink, spiced with cinnamon and maybe ginger, _something_ with a kick, and sweet and hot and _perfect_. 

“...ought to make some mead of this.” Nori suggested, and Dwalin laughed. 

“That's what Bofur suggested.” He chuckled, “Fili and Kili were _all for_ it.” 

They lapsed into comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. Dwalin had his arm around Nori, big hand curled around his hip, thumb rubbing idly back and forth on Nori's back. When they both ran out of honey water, Dwalin set their mugs aside and easily lifted Nori into his lap, wrapping the blanket around them closer. 

“I'm on watch?” Nori said, as Dwalin's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close against his broad chest. 

“I know.” Dwalin said, “I won't distract you... I can go if you'd like?” 

“You'll get cold.” Nori said. 

“I don't mind.” Dwalin answered, gently stroking Nori's arm through his clothes, and he was weak against Dwalin. He always had been. 

“Stay.” he asked, and he could feel Dwalin's smile against his skin as he nuzzled behind his ear to press a brief kiss. 

For a few hours of watch, it was just the two of them. 

. 


	29. what he is capable of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin dreams

.

Nori woke to Dwalin twitching and growling in his sleep, a sheen of sweat on his skin. He had a fistful of blanket, hand clenched tight around it. 

“...no...” Dwalin growled low, a twitch through his whole body, breathing sharp and fast as his eyes darted behind their lids. _Whatever_ he was dreaming, it was bad. 

“Dwalin.” Nori whispered, trying to wake the warrior without waking any other of the Company. 

“Nori!” he looked up at the desperate hiss to see Balin gesturing him over, eyes wide. 

Nori slipped out from under what Dwalin had left him of the blanket he was fighting and crawled the short distance to Balin. The white haired Dwarf grabbed onto him, pulling him down to sit with him on the edge of his bedroll, watching Dwalin with worried eyes. Nori shrugged out of his grip, but stayed where he'd been put. 

“It'll be the Dragon that woke it.” Balin whispered, “He's better than he was, but he dreams like that sometimes. If you'd touched him...” He trailed off, shaking his head. 

“...he won't hurt me.” Nori protested. 

The look Balin gave him was long and calculating, “Aye.” he agreed, “He'd not hurt you _intentionally_ , but he wakes fighting from dreams like _that_. He would not know you.” 

Dwalin struggled under the blanket, face twisted in a snarl. 

“He wakes _me_ when I...” Nori started, cutting himself off. Balin didn't need to _know_ that, but the older Dwarf's expression had softened and saddened. 

“He'll wake himself soon.” Balin said quietly, laying himself back down, “He's far better than he once was... but you should not sleep with him tonight.” He glanced toward Ori, who was being spooned by Fili and used as a pillow by Kili, then scooted back, rearranging his blanket so there was spare. 

“You can share with me.” he offered, since there were no spare blankets. 

Nori looked toward Dwalin, the worst seemed to have subsided, he was just breathing hard now. 

Balin's hand stopped him from going back to Dwalin before he even realized that's what he was doing. 

“My brother is _dangerous_.” his voice was very firm for being so quiet, “It worries me, how incautious you are with him... you must _know_ what he's capable of?” 

Nori shrugged away from Balin's hand. _Did_ he know what Dwalin was capable of? Everyone knew Dwalin could kill on accident, hitting too hard and too many times, but all he had ever given to Nori was kindness, and gentleness, and tenderness. Was it Nori who didn't know what Dwalin was capable of, or Balin? 

“I know.” Nori said. Dwalin could touch the way _no one_ else did, more gentle with his big hands than anyone else. He could hold Nori close and sew him back together and save his life more than once. He could kiss him and make love to him the way no one ever had, and never become impatient with Nori's childish _need_ for so much closeness. _That_ was what Dwalin was capable of. 

“Good.” Balin said, and patted the bed roll. Nori lay down beside the older Dwarf, keeping some space between them, turned away to face Dwalin. 

Balin seemed to fall back asleep quickly, but Nori couldn't. He watched Dwalin twitching under the blanket they'd shared, occasionally fighting with it and growling. 

He considered different plans for waking Dwalin while minimizing the risk of being hit if he _did_ wake up fighting. Throwing a boot was, of course, the safest. He'd been subjected to it plenty of times himself... but Dwalin didn't wake _Nori_ that way. 

It should be something gentler. 

Nori sneaked back out of Balin's bedroll, careful not to disturb the older Dwarf, and crawled back to Dwalin's side. He was mostly still, now, sweat on his forehead and his breath too fast, his hand still clenched into a fist in the blanket. 

Dwalin kicked his way explosively free of the blanket, eyes snapping open, snarling in rage as he sat up and threw a vicious punch into... nothing.

Nori had thrown himself back away from him as soon as he started moving – but even if he hadn't, Dwalin hadn't been aiming for him. He'd been so _fast_... if Nori _had_ touched him... 

Dwalin growled dangerous in his throat, fists clenched... and then let everything go in a broken sigh that could have been a sob, drawing his knees up and resting his forehead on them as he dropped his hands to the floor, shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“Dwalin?” Nori whispered, and Dwalin's head snapped up to look at him wide-eyed. 

“I didn't..?” He started, reaching for Nori. His eyes fell on his hands and he recoiled, horror on his face as he pulled them away from Nori, threw them both to the side of his body furthest away from Nori as he buried his face in his knees again, curling up on himself with a whimper of pain. 

“Dwalin...” Nori tried again. He didn't _know_ what Dwalin needed, but he needed _something_. 

“...I would _cut them off_ before I hurt you with them.” he groaned. 

His hands... 

Hadn't he said the worst was when he dreamed of the Dwarf he killed, watching himself throw the punch that was one too many and unable to stop himself? 

Nori knelt in front of Dwalin, running his hands over the warrior's head, neck, shoulders, arms. Dwalin flinched when Nori reached his hands but didn't pull away as Nori stroked them, held them – lifted them up to press them to his chest. 

“You didn't hurt me, and you won't.” He whispered, meeting Dwalin's liquid-bright eyes. 

Big fingers closed on the fabric of his shirt and he was dragged forward, grabbed and rolled and... 

he was laying underneath Dwalin, big arms wrapped tight around him and Dwalin's face buried in his shoulder. 

“I would _never_ hurt you.” Dwalin whispered, choked into Nori's shirt, and Nori made an agreeing hum and stroked Dwalin's head and shoulders, his arms and what of his back he could reach, ran his fingers soothingly through his hair. He made no comment on the shaking of Dwalin's shoulders, or the wet heat that soaked through his shirt from the warrior's eyes. 

.

 


	30. on the gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory treasure-chamber smut.  
> but first... ravens!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Roac a lady-raven because this fic had too much testosterone, and I really wanted a kickass raven matriarch, ok?

.

Dwalin remembered the Ravens of Erebor, of course, and he'd heard that the Ravens were returning to the Mountain, but he was still surprised when one found them in the guard post and began speaking to Balin in the common tongue.

Dwalin had expected they would have to reforge an arrangement with the Ravens, that none would remember.

With Roac and her small flock of loyal descendants, things would be easier. The younger Ravens hadn't learned to speak the common tongue, but they were strong and fast and could carry messages to Dain in the Iron Hills and Dis in the Blue Mountains.

And they _would_ be needing to send messages. Quickly.

Smaug was dead, but the Men of Lake-Town and the Elves of Mirkwood were marching on Erebor.

Smaug.

Dead.

Dwalin met Nori's eyes and saw his own relief reflected there. Against armies of Men and Elves, they could hold. They could hold off a siege until help came from the Iron Hills.

The Company began gathering up their belongings, packing everything up as Balin and Thorin decided on the wording of the messages they had Ori write up, and they sent out the Ravens. Two each to the Iron Hills and New Belegost, a courier and a guard, Roac explained.

Help would come from the Iron Hills. Without Smaug, Dain _would_ send help.

He _had_ to.

Nori, always quick at packing, had all his things together and was sitting out on the rocks, smiling slightly as he watched Ori chat with Roac and worked on balancing a third rock in a little stack beside him.

Dwalin set his pack down and sat beside him.

“We have the Mountain.” he said, and Nori nodded, getting his rock to balance and looking at Dwalin with a smile in his hazel eyes.

“All of Erebor...” Nori said, “maybe we'll find some privacy?” His expression held heat and promise that had Dwalin's heart picking up, but also that little fear, that worry he had any time he asked for something.

Dwalin smiled, not even trying to keep it from turning into a leer, leaning in closer, “I can promise you that.” he said, low, and Nori shivered at his voice. It had been _far_ too long since Lake-Town, since they'd had the privacy to do anything together. What they'd been able to share since amounted to nothing more than a tease of what he wanted, what they _both_ wanted. They'd managed to kiss a few times in the guard post building, when everyone else was out of the way momentarily. They joined each other when they were on watch, but there wasn't much they could do without distracting the person on guard, and that wasn't something Dwalin would risk no matter _how_ badly he might want to.

He reached out to cup the side of Nori's face, fingertips rubbing through his silky-soft hair, and Nori turned into it, eyes closing as he pressed his cheek into Dwalin's palm, and that was...

it was nearly overwhelming, since the nightmares came back, to have Nori trust his hands.

He'd made sure Nori knew to never attempt to wake him, but he was _there_ when Dwalin woke himself up. He was there and he stretched and purred like a cat under Dwalin's bloodied hands... until he was Nori's lover again and not just a killer, until he could look at his hands without seeing the Dwarf he killed, and he could sleep.

With Smaug dead, with the threat of the Dragon no longer hanging over the Company, maybe the nightmares would go away again.

Dwalin withdrew his hand before any of the rest of the Company came out, Ori was so deep in conversation with Roac he probably hadn't noticed.

Thorin came out with his pack, squaring himself as he surveyed his Company, a bright fire burning in his eyes.

“To Erebor.” he said, and lead the way into the Mountain.

.

Nori stumbled in the gold coins, falling to his knees beside Dwalin, face pale, eyes wide and unseeing.

“Nori!” Dwalin immediately discarded all thought of searching for the Arkenstone and turned to the smaller Dwarf. Had he been hurt? Poisoned? How? When? They'd made it to the treasure chamber, and after a short time of celebrating they'd been sent out into all the adjoining nooks and crannies, all full of gold and treasure, in search of the Arkenstone. He'd been beside Nori the whole time.

Nori looked up at Dwalin, took a handful of priceless gemwork out of his sleeve, dropped the bracelet from his trembling hands.

….trembling? Nori's hands didn't _tremble._ Not even the _Dragon_ made Nori's hand's tremble...

“...I _can't_ steal it.” he breathed, “I _can't_. I want to. I _want_ to, but I _can't_ because... it's mine?” he pointed around the room they were in, at the gold coins and gemstones piled so deep the floor couldn't be seen and laughed a high-pitched giggle that choked off in his throat, his eyes rolling.

“I could steal everything I could carry every day for the rest of my life and I wouldn't _steal_ anything and I can't... I _can't..._ ” He was hyperventilating now, taking tiny panicked breaths.

Dwalin set his lantern down and grabbed Nori's hands, “Look at me. Breathe.” He ordered, applying enough pressure to Nori's hands that the smaller Dwarf _had_ to pay attention to him. Wide hazel eyes fixed on him, and he demonstrated the deep breaths he needed Nori to take.

The treasure was impressive enough to those who'd seen it before... for Nori, who'd never seen anything better than the pitiful handful of relics in the treasure chamber of New Belegost... for a thief who'd never had much of his own before...

It was no wonder it was overwhelming to him.

“I can't _steal_.” Nori said, and he did not seem _happy_ about that. He'd joined the quest for a new start. He _had_ it, and he did not seem happy.

“You never have to steal again.” Dwalin said. That was a _good_ thing.

Nori jerked his hands out of Dwalin's grip, stumbling backward until he slipped on the loose coins and sat down hard, closing his eyes as he rubbed at his face with his hands.

Dwalin followed, sat down beside him, put an arm around him, and Nori leaned hard into him.

He didn't _understand_ , he could only try to be _here_ and hope it was enough. He was _powerless_ , always so powerless to help Nori...

Nori reached into his clothes and pulled more jewels out, more gold – only the finest craftsmanship, he had a good eye – throwing it away from himself and muttering something under his breath... the steps to breaking them down and getting the best price for the components, Dwalin realized.

Dwalin hadn't seen him picking _any_ of this up... not that he would have _stopped_ him. They had all picked up a pretty piece or two in celebration, to wear a little gold after so many years of deprivation...

Nori slumped into Dwalin when he was done, hiding his face in his side. Dwalin rubbed Nori's back and wished he _understood_...

“If I'm not a thief, what _am_ I? I've _never been_ anything else...” Nori finally asked in a hoarse whisper, “If I can't steal, _what use_ am I?”

Dwalin squeezed him tight, held him close. What was it Balin had told him, when he'd killed and wasn't sure who he _was_ anymore?

“You are a _Dwarf._ ” he told Nori. “Carved of solid Stone and beloved of Mahal.” He paused, thinking carefully before he continued. He traced the most prominent scar across Nori's back through his clothes, “You are _brave_. You're a fighter I'm _proud_ to call my shield-brother.” He stroked Nori's hair, “You're _smart_. You see paths _no one_ else does. The way you use your stone-sense is beautiful, your skill is so...” Dwalin shook his head. He didn't even have a word for how impressive Nori's training was, his confidence in bad rock, terrifying as it was to watch. He held Nori close to his side, trying to make sure he remembered everything he could.

“You draw maps like it's _breathing_ , I've never seen anything like it... and you're a good teacher.” Dwalin finished. He'd forgotten things, he knew, he was never as good as Balin but he could _try_. He had to try.

“...all of that's _for_ stealing.” Nori whispered.

“It doesn't _have_ to be.” Dwalin said. “You helped Lady Dis with her guard's rounds, and you've used what you know _so many_ times on this quest to help us, without stealing.”

Nori didn't answer, and Dwalin tried to think of what more he could say. He leaned down and kissed Nori on the forehead, “But if that's not enough... you're also a brother to Ori... and you're _my_ lover. That's two things you are that have _nothing_ to do with being a thief.”

Nori seemed to consider for a long time before he looked up at him, “I _like_ those two things.” he confessed quietly, “I like the second one _very much_.” he leaned up to kiss him, soft brushing of lips that Dwalin answered, slow and gentle. The smaller Dwarf needed very little encouragement to straddle Dwalin, settling himself warm across his lap with a better angle for kissing. Dwalin gripped Nori's lean hips, stroked his back and shoulders while Nori kissed him the way only he kissed, slick and slow and sure like it would never end... and the rest of the Company was scattered, looking elsewhere. No one would be disturbing them, and no one should hear if they weren't _too_ loud.

Eventually Dwalin shrugged the heavy fur from his shoulders and lay it on the gold behind him, pulling Nori with him as he reclined on it, still kissing with the full length of their bodies pressed against each other.

He could feel the hardness of Nori's erection pressed against him, and he was just as hard – after so long of so little, and finally a chance to touch and kiss uninterrupted.... This isn't where he'd expected to do this, or when, but he could be adaptable. The Arkenstone would wait. He ran his hands over all of Nori's body he could reach, and Nori arched and groaned and shivered into his hands... always so beautifully responsive. Dwalin would _never_ get tired of it, of a lover who saw his hands only as instruments of pleasure, not tools of violence.

Nori's clever fingers danced across the buttons of Dwalin's shirt between their bodies, laying it open and sliding his hand inside. Oh... it had been _too long_ since Dwalin had felt Nori's hands on his bare skin. He groaned into Nori's endless kiss.

Nori answered with a soft moan, fingers finding Dwalin's nipple and circling it deliciously as he ground down against his erection, pressure and friction and sweet pleasure growing...

...Nori had been panicking just minutes before, and he hadn't _said_ that he wanted...

Dwalin had had it pounded sufficiently deeply into his thick brain that he had to _be careful_.

He drew back from the kiss as he rolled them to lay on their sides, facing each other with their legs all tangled together.

“I want, if _you_ want...” He said, he wanted _everything_ , anything they could. There were no stores of oil in the Mountain that hadn't gone rancid over the long years, but even if they had nothing for slick and couldn't fuck, he wanted _anything_ he could. Even just Nori's hands were _so good_.

“Tell me what you want to do?” he asked, stroking the side of Nori's face.

There was that worry, that hesitation, before Nori was pressing something into his hand.

He gaped at the salve tin. It had _survived_ the loss of the camp?

Nori's bright eyes gleamed gold with the reflection of the lamplight on the treasure, “Fuck me?” he requested.

“Aye...” Dwalin agreed eagerly, rolling them the rest of the way over so he was on top of Nori, working on the buttons of his shirt, “I'll fuck you in the treasure chamber of Erebor, where I'll warrant only _Kings_ have fucked.” Nori whimpered slightly as Dwalin pulled his shirt open, running his hand over the lean muscles of Nori's chest and stomach, Nori's hands on Dwalin's body, tangling in his chest hair and tracing the lines of his scars and muscles.

“We'll have the first fuck in Erebor since the Dragon...” he whispered against Nori's ear, taking the lobe gently between his lips to flick his tongue over it and feel Nori's body jolt under him.

He fought with the ties of Nori's pants, finally succeeding in untying them and pulling them down just far enough to take Nori's erection into his hand. Nori whined and bucked up into his hand, shuddering as he untied Dwalin's pants quicker than thought and wrapped that impossibly clever hand around him in turn, working him with a deft flick of his wrist.

“easy...” Dwalin groaned against Nori's neck, “or I won't _last_ to fuck you...”

Nori writhed his way free of his boots and pants, nearly naked underneath Dwalin now, wrapping his legs around him in clear invitation.

“So don't _wait._ ” he whispered.

Dwalin adjusted his furs under his lover, to keep him off the cold gold, and grabbed the tin of salve, prying the lid off and slicking two fingers, eyes never leaving Nori's.

The smaller Dwarf was breathing quick, arching up with a groan as Dwalin carefully breached him, sliding a finger into the heat of his body. He leaned over Nori, kissing along his collarbone as he slowly fucked him with a finger. Nori's hands were everywhere, stroking his shoulders, gripping his back, tangling gently in his hair, his body shuddering and arching beneath Dwalin, pressing into every touch.

He kissed his way up Nori's neck, captured his lips for another kiss as he slowly pressed a second finger inside. Nori gasped against his mouth, pushing down with his hips, taking Dwalin deeper as he moaned. His muscles clenched tight around Dwalin's fingers as he curled them up, softly massaging his sweet spot.

“Dwalin...” Nori whimpered, “Dwalin, I want...” he pulled Dwalin closer.

Oh yes... he'd pictured something slower, gentler for their first in Erebor... but he _was not_ complaining. Not even a little.

He regretfully removed his fingers from Nori, pushing his pants down just enough, slicking himself as quickly as he could, positioning his erection at Nori's entrance and pushing slowly, slowly, against him, watching his face.

He groaned as he sank into the slick welcoming heat of Nori's body, Nori's eyes fluttering shut as he moaned, going soft and boneless beneath him as he relaxed, allowing Dwalin to bury himself to the hilt in a single smooth motion.

“...missed this...” he moaned against Nori's ear, wrapping his arms around his lover, rocking their bodies slowly but firmly together. Nori held tight to him in turn, pressing up against his chest and pushing back against every thrust of his hips. It felt like it had been _forever_ since Lake-Town, but they still remembered each other's bodies, easily finding the angle that worked best for them both. Nori growled and ground on him, his arched erection pressing tight against Dwalin's furred belly.

His eyes flew open, reflecting bright gold, his body arching up and clenching as he spent between them with a small surprised cry, blunt nails biting into Dwalin's back.

Dwalin fucked Nori through his climax, stilling as it finished. He was still nowhere _near_ done, but he could finish some other way.

“Don't stop.” Nori whispered, burrowing against Dwalin's collarbone, clinging tight to him.

“I don't want to hurt you...” Dwalin answered, rubbing his cheek against the silk of Nori's hair, he _knew_ how quickly uncomfortable overstimulation could become.

“...more salve.” Nori suggested, “but don't... _don't stop_.” he looked up at Dwalin, eyes begging, and there was no way Dwalin could deny him when it was what _he_ wanted too.

He kissed him gently, buried deep inside his lover and feeling the beat of his heart through the connection of their bodies.

He drew himself most of the way out, scooping up a generous amount of salve – he ought to use it sparingly, who _knew_ how long it would have to last them but he couldn't care – and spreading it on his erection before pressing back inside. It was almost sloppy with slickness now, warm and wet, Nori's body relaxed, soft and yielding beneath him.

Dwalin cradled Nori in his arms, rocking easily into him. Nori held him close, rubbing against him like he _needed_ to feel all of his skin, adjusting the angle of his hips so Dwalin avoided the oversensitivity of his sweet spot.

It was closeness they were chasing now, kissing and touching, soft moans as they moved together and Dwalin's climax slowly, slowly built.

He was so beautiful, Nori, his hair in disarray and warm lamp light reflecting off the gold to make his skin glow, so hungry for every touch, so generous with his own, holding and stroking Dwalin as though _he_ were the desirable one.

Nori cried out with him when he spent, collapsing across the smaller Dwarf and causing a small avalanche of gold coins to spill onto the furs. Nori protested the cold coins against his sweat-gleaming skin, shivering and curling into Dwalin's chest, but Dwalin's attempts to sweep them away only made more fall. He gave up, both of them laughing as he rolled them over so his own body was between Nori and the gold, their bodies uncoupling as they moved.

He reached under Nori's unbuttoned shirt to stroke his beautiful scarred back, kissing Nori's soft hair while his lover sprawled across his chest.

“Gold is not the _most comfortable_ place to make love.” Nori said, laughing slightly as he nuzzled against Dwalin's collarbone, “...never thought I'd know that.”

“mmm” Dwalin agreed, shifting his shoulders to try to get some of the coins out from under them, but only succeeding in getting more.

“You be alright now?” he asked, remembering what had started this in the first place.

Nori considered the question, fingers twisting in Dwalin's chest hair, “Yeah.” he said quietly, “I'm alright.”

Dwalin squeezed him tight. In a little they would get up, and clean themselves up, and try to make it less obvious what they'd been doing, and continue their search for the Arkenstone.

In a little.

Not yet.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now with art from asparklethatisblue  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/image/61140700600


	31. besieged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori does some thinking and has a chat with Bilbo.

.

Nori kept watch out on the battlements, keeping track of the movements of the Men and Elves out in the valley.

Earlier Ori had sat out with him, visiting with Roac and her granddaughter Hraf, who wanted to learn the common tongue, but he'd gone back inside and Nori was alone on watch.

Ori had probably gone back to talk with Balin. Of all the Company, Balin was the least happy with the Men and Elves' demands, and Thorin's response to it.

“No sense of diplomacy. None of them.” he grumbled, “Where is Lady Dis when you need her?”

Still... Dain and his soldiers should arrive in a few days to help hold the Mountain, and it wasn't as thought they could just _give_ the treasure away to anyone who wanted a piece of it.

Nori shuddered, fingering the gorgeous necklace of white gold and uncut rubies he'd tucked into the split lining of his jacket. The treasure...

He was getting _better_ at not stealing bits of it. He would return the necklace soon, the same way he'd returned all the _other_ shiny he'd snagged out of the treasure chamber, but a lifetime of instincts were not easy to dismiss. The necklace was beautiful, true, but when he looked at it he saw it all broken down, the stones and their settings sold off piece by piece. When he looked at it he saw food and clothes for _years_. He saw bribes paid and fail-safes put in place, and no one would even _miss_ the necklace.

It didn't matter that he had more gold now than he could even wrap his mind around. He saw something he wanted that no one would miss or notice him take, and he _took_ it.

He was a _thief_.

Except he _wasn't_ now, Dwalin...

Nori gently touched the unexpectedly sensitive spot Dwalin had discovered where his shoulder met his neck early this morning, spooning together in the little room of the old barracks they'd claimed as their own. A tiny shiver of remembered pleasure curled through him as he found the slight bruise Dwalin had sucked there, working it relentlessly with his lips and tongue until Nori was squirming uncontrollably in his arms, fucking himself on Dwalin's thick erection until he had to bite the blankets to muffle himself.

Dwalin was the _very best_ of anything Nori had ever had, and he expected Nori not to be a thief, and Nori _was_ trying.

He didn't know if he _could_ be anything other than a thief. He didn't know if the hours spent every day in the treasure chamber searching for the Arkenstone were good or bad. Wandering over _so much_ gold made it seem like just... _metal_... but he never managed to make it out without something in his pocket, or up his sleeve, or in the lining of his jacket, or tucked into his boot.

He always took it back, because of Dwalin, but he had a hard time _not taking_ in the first place.

He'd been Thjofr's lad for decades, his sire's obedient shadow, quick hands and light feet, watching and waiting, still and quiet. After Thjofr disappeared he hadn't known what to do – but there were debts that had to be paid, so he did what he'd been taught to do until he'd forged himself into his own thief. A thief with a very good reputation, who could find a way into _anywhere_ , who people wanted to work with because he was rarely caught and never broke quickly when he _was_.

He didn't _know_ if he could reforge himself. He wanted to. He didn't _want_ to live the way he had. He wanted to be someone Ori could be proud to call brother. He wanted Dori to continue not-hating him. He wanted to be a member of a Company that wouldn't throw him to the Wargs, who he'd never betray and wouldn't betray him. He _never_ wanted to be arrested and locked up to face interrogators again.

He was _getting better_ at not taking things from the treasure chamber, but he could imagine Dwalin's disappointment if he knew that Nori was still stealing, and Dori's disgust, and Thorin's anger. Thorin was _already_ angry that they couldn't find the Arkenstone, threatening that if they found it and didn't give it to him...

Nori was _trying_ , for the Company... and for Dwalin. If he wasn't a thief anymore, there were worse things to be instead than Dwalin's lover. There were worse things to be than the Dwarf who soothed Dwalin after his nightmares, to be the one who could make Dwalin flush bright red with a flick of his fingers and a _look_. There were worse things to try to be than the lover of a Dwarf who would give _so much_ to Nori.

For as long as Dwalin would have him... however long that was.

Movement caught at the corner of his eye, and he glanced over to see Bilbo with two steaming bowls.

Dinner.

He nodded to the Hobbit and accepted his bowl while Bilbo plopped himself down on the edge of the battlement with him.

“Surprise, it's beans and barley. Again.” Bilbo said dryly, sighing as he began to eat.

“s' not too bad.” Nori said, tucking in to the plain soup. “I grew up on this.” beans and barley, cheap to buy, lasts forever if you store it right, leave it simmering over a lump of coal all day and it'd fill a hungry growing Dwarf right up. It was the first thing he learned to cook and he always kept a pot going.

“This?” Bilbo said incredulously, poking at his soup with his spoon.

“mhm.” Nori agreed, “usually had onions or garlic in it, or some sour cabbage on the side... not always. Gravy pies when I could steal them.”

“I'll bet _they_ have garlic.” Bilbo said sourly, gesturing toward the camp of Men and Elves with his spoon.

They ate in silence for a while, but not uncomfortable. He expected Bilbo to leave when they were done eating, but he stacked their bowls beside him and kicked his feet slightly over the edge of the battlement.

“I could go for some pipe-weed. I bet they have pipe-weed too.” Nori commented. It had all been lost when the Dragon destroyed the camp, and the Company were feeling it.

“mmm, Old Toby.” Bilbo sighed, “I'll send a _big_ barrel to the Mountain when I get...” his shoulders hunched slightly, “...when I get _home_.” he finished quietly.

Homesick Hobbit, pining for green hills and round doors. Nori never knew what to say. He'd been homesick so bad he thought he would die of it when Thjofr first took him, but he'd _dealt_ with it, pushed it away like all the rest of his needy childishness, or tried to. Never had succeeded all the way.

The silence stretched out between them.

“I've been curious... and I don't mean to be rude, but...” Bilbo started, coughing uncomfortably before continuing, “I've just noticed that you're not... when we were in the Elf King's palace, you were.... Is it just because the Mountain is bigger, you don't feel trapped?”

Nori looked out over the valley, at the rising smoke of the campfires from the enemy camp.

“You think we're trapped in here?” He asked.

“Well...” Bilbo gestured out at the enemy, “We're _besieged_...”

“Nah.” Nori said, “There's _lots_ of ways someone careful could get out.”

“Really?” Bilbo said, with practiced casualness, “How would you... if you fancied going for a stroll?” he gestured vaguely toward the valley.

Ah, so _that_ was the Hobbit's game.

Nori couldn't blame him. The Mountain wasn't his home, and never would be. This wasn't his fight. Or maybe he just wanted to steal some garlic and pipe-weed. That could be nice.

He smiled and began sketching a rough map of the area between the Mountain and the enemy camp with a lump of chalk he'd found in the old barracks. Making maps and plans with Bilbo had become comfortable. The Hobbit was clever, he wasn't half bad at it. Nori put the chalk back in his pocket and replaced it with pebbles, strewn over the map, shifted them around in the Men and Elves' guard rounds.

“I'd do it at night.” He said, “Elf eyesight is _shit_ at night. Toss a rope over the battlement _here,_ leads down to this little ledge...”

Bilbo leaned over the map with him, and they hashed out a plan to get into the enemy camp, find the food stores, and get back undetected. It wasn't a half-bad plan, if Nori did say so himself. He was almost tempted to try it himself.

“That was fun.” Bilbo smiled as Nori erased his map. “Have to keep entertained, you know, besieged in a Mountain.” He gathered up the bowls, “We might have bread soon!” he volunteered, “Dori found a grain mill and Bifur's been trying to repair it. It'll just be barley cakes, of course, but at least it'll be different...”

Nori stopped him with a hand on his chest as he moved to leave, saw his eyes widen with surprise as Nori leaned in close.

“If I wanted to travel West this time of year... I would try find a caravan or, better, a group of Rangers going through the Gap of Rohan.” he whispered.

“Oh!” Bilbo said as Nori released him and returned to watching the valley. “um... your watch is almost over. I'll make sure Bofur's ready...” He trailed off as he left.

Nori snorted a small laugh once Bilbo was gone. Had the Hobbit _really_ thought Nori wouldn't realize what he was up to?

.


	32. gold sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shit begins to hit the fan, and Protective Dwalin is Protective. 
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings:  
> -gold sickness  
> -people doing and saying things due to gold sickness that they wouldn't normally say and don't really believe  
> -like trying to throw Hobbits off cliffs  
> -and briefly saying homophobic, sex-shaming, and rape-suggesting things.  
> Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to really-saraleee, zomborgs, docmanda, greenekangaroo, and kuailongkit on Tumblr for helping come up with new curses for Nori. You are beautifully inspirational people.

.

The Company were all reeling. Dwalin had known Thorin his whole life, and he would _never_ have expected him to seriously threaten to throw someone smaller than himself off a cliff, someone under his protection, one of his own Company. 

Not even if Bilbo _had_ given the Arkenstone to the enemy. 

Thorin had a temper, everyone knew that, but he wasn't a _killer._

He wasn't Dwalin. 

Bilbo had said his goodbyes from the bottom of the cliff, safely lowered with ropes. The quest had not been kind to the little Hobbit, tears rolled down cheeks that were pale and lean where they had once been rosy and round, as he said he hoped they could meet again as friends, running off after Gandalf and the Men with a sob when Thorin cursed him and shot an arrow at his feet. 

Thorin's eyes burned cold fire, face hard with fury as he snapped out orders, scattering the Company back into the Mountain... and none of his orders were to prepare to pay what he'd agreed to get the Arkenstone back. 

Dwalin was almost out of the room, going to check on the armory as he'd been ordered, when he saw Thorin turn on Nori. 

“Don't try to tell me you had _nothing_ to do with this.” He snarled. 

Dwalin hadn't seen Nori look so lost since his dreams were driving him mad in the Elf King's dungeon, his shoulders slumped, defeated, confusion in his eyes as he clung to the neatly re-coiled ropes as though he weren't sure if anything else were _real_. 

“I wouldn't... I didn't _know_...” Nori said, “I just thought he wanted to go _home_.” 

Thorin's punch was fast and completely unexpected, Nori stumbling back with a look of complete shock to match Dwalin's flickering across his face before that horrible familiar sneer settled on his face, that anger he hid behind. 

“Lick an Orc's arse, you slimy Elf-faced cur.” Nori spat out automatically, hand covering the side of his face, bracing himself for pain, eyes searching for an escape even as his mouth formed foul words that would only make Thorin angrier, and Thorin was stepping forward and drawing his arm back for another hit... 

No. 

Dwalin was between them, drawing himself up to his full height and width, still the only Dwarf he'd _ever_ met who was bigger than Thorin, though he normally tried not to show it off. He stepped forward, right back into Thorin's space when the other Dwarf took a step back to avoid having to look _up_ at him. 

He growled low, flexed his hands to make the leather of his knuckle-dusters creak and the chains rattle.

 _No one_ was allowed to hurt Nori. 

Nori was _Dwalin's_ charge, and Thorin might be a King but Dwalin was a killer. If _he_ was never allowed to forget it, then neither was _Thorin_. He faced down the anger in Thorin's eyes with his own, let him see a taste of the unhinged rage that had had him hitting long after it was clear his opponent was a dead Dwarf standing. 

“Never. Touch him. Again.” he said, low and even and deadly, the menace of control he could let go at any time, Nori gone still and silent behind him. He did not follow when Thorin took another step back. 

“I see how it is.” Thorin snarled, “I suspected it when you wanted to bring him with us... and now your _whore_ has turned you against me!” 

Dwalin's hands clenched into fists. Thorin had _no right_... the touch of Nori's hand on his wrist was the only thing that held Dwalin back. 

“Of course a killer like _you_ couldn't get anyone to roll over for you without chaining him down... or is it you who rolls over for him?” 

Nori's hand grabbed tight to his wrist, pulling him back. That was too much, _too far_. Thorin had no right to insult that, the trust Nori gave him, surrendering to him without fear... how eager and considerate Nori was when Dwalin was in the mood to do things the other way. Thorin did not know the tenderness and the affection they shared, he had not seen the ache in Nori's heart, the hurt Thjofr and Dori had left there. Thorin did not know how Nori helped Dwalin after his nightmares. Thorin did not understand and he had _no right_ to insult and cheapen what they had. 

“Dwalin, don't...” Nori whispered, and Thorin's eyes fell to Dwalin's wrist, Nori's slender hand holding back all of Dwalin, and it seemed to be all the proof he needed. 

“Get out of my _sight_.” he spat, nothing but fury in his face. 

“Gladly.” Dwalin gritted out, twisting his wrist out of Nori's grip, holding his hand instead. He _would not_ be shamed for this, for having the bravest Dwarf he knew as his lover. He kept himself between Thorin and Nori as he moved them out of the room, watched Thorin leave too, taking the corridor toward the treasure chamber. 

“Where is Balin?” Dwalin growled, stomping down the hallway, rage boiling in his chest and the blood pounding in his ears. 

“...you shouldn't have...” Nori started. 

“He had no _right_.” Dwalin cut him off. “You are _my_ charge. _No one_ is allowed to hurt you, ever again.” 

“But _I'm_ just a...” Nori tried again. Dwalin spun and grabbed him, pushed him against the wall, looming over the smaller Dwarf, frightened gold and copper eyes looking up at him. He was _never_ rough with Nori, not like this, but with his body still thrumming with rage he wasn't at his best. 

“You are not _just_ anything.” Dwalin said, unclenching his fists out of Nori's jacket and smoothing his hands over Nori's chest, his shoulders. “You are _so much_ , you're...” Dwalin didn't have the words. He wanted to say 'everything' but that wasn't right, was it? but it was. 

He rested his forehead against Nori's. “You're _so much_.” he repeated, and it didn't matter if it didn't really make sense. He lifted a hand to cup Nori's cheek, carefully avoiding the area of his eye, which was already swelling and bruising. 

“But he's the _King_.” Nori said, and Dwalin's rage roared back full strength. He continued his march down the hallway. 

“He is _only_ my King when he is _worthy_ of my loyalty.” Dwalin growled back. _No one_ was allowed to hurt Nori, to make him feel small or helpless. Not even a King. 

“...that's treason...” Nori's voice was strained. 

“ _Then I am a traitor!”_ Dwalin bellowed, kicking the door open to the old barracks the Company had been living in, seeing the whole Company – minus Thorin and Bilbo – gathered in the common room. They all looked up to stare at them – Ori seemed to have been crying on Fili's shoulder with Kili wrapped around the back of him. No one looked happy. 

“Thorin has gone mad.” Dwalin growled at Balin, sitting Nori down in a chair and stomping over to Oin's medical kit, fishing through it looking for bruise cream. “He struck Nori.” there were several sharp intakes of breath. 

Balin blanched, “Is he alive?” he rasped out. 

Nori? But he was sitting _right there_ and... 

Thorin. 

He was asking if Dwalin had killed Thorin. 

“Didn't _touch_ him.” Dwalin snarled, not entirely pleased with that.

“How _dare_ he...” Dori started, standing, “He can't...” Dwalin glared him down and grabbed the bruise cream. _Dori_ had no room to speak about anyone hurting Nori _._

“You'd like to be the only one, wouldn't you.” He growled. Dori's full-body flinch was perversely satisfying, but he shouldn't, he _shouldn't_ , he was angry, too close to his edge and he was lashing out everywhere the way Thorin did. 

“You _know_ I regret that.” Dori said brokenly, dropping his gaze, and Dwalin _did_ know that Dori regretted it, but Nori's quickly-hidden surprise told him that _Nori_ hadn't known. All this time of trying to reconcile with Nori, and Dori hadn't even bothered to _apologi_ _ze?_

Dwalin grabbed a spare chair and slammed it down in front of Nori, prying the lid off the bruise cream as he sat. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself a little, before he scooped a little bit up with a fingertip and brought it up to Nori's bruised eye. He cradled the opposite side of Nori's face in his other hand as he dabbed the cream on as gently as he could with his clumsy fingers. 

Nori's eyes closed, leaning into his hand with a shiver. 

“I showed Bilbo how to get out.” Nori said, “I didn't know he had the Arkenstone. I thought... I thought he wanted to go _home_ , or maybe just steal some garlic and pipe-weed?” 

Dwalin gently ran his thumb across Nori's cheek as he picked up a little more bruise cream. 

“I thought...” Nori continued miserably, his hands clenching on the ropes he still hadn't let go of, shoulders hunching up, “I thought it was _different_. I thought I could trust the Company.” he looked up at Dwalin, bright eyes begging him for _something_ and he didn't know what... and now _he_ wanted to throw Bilbo off a cliff for betraying Nori's trust. 

“Hammers and coal.” Dwalin swore, plucking Nori up out of his chair and pulling the smaller Dwarf into his lap, because he didn't _know_ what else to do. He wrapped his arms around him tight, like he could protect him from everything in the world, and Nori curled into him, hiding his face against Dwalin's collarbone. 

“Thorin has gone mad.” Dwalin said. He didn't know what else to _say_ , what else could be done.

The Company had gone very very quiet, Dwalin glared at all of them, _daring_ them to say anything. 

“He was going to _kill_ Bilbo.” Bofur said, from sitting on the floor over next to the stove, his hat pulled down low over his face, not low enough to hide the redness of his eyes. Bifur grumbled something Dwalin didn't catch, if it were words at all, drawing a whetstone down the blade of his boar spear pointedly. 

“Bilbo was trying to help, in his own way.” Balin said gently, “What he did, he did because he did not want there to be war. He did not wish to see us in danger.” 

“But there _will_ be war.” Gloin said. 

“Aye, there will be war.” Balin said heavily, “Thorin... has gone like Thror before him.” 

“...the gold sickness.” Dwalin said, and Balin nodded with a sigh. He hadn't seen it in Thorin, but he hadn't been looking for it. Nori shifted in his arms, looking around at the Company, but they had moved on from staring at them, and he settled himself more comfortably instead of moving away. Dwalin gently rubbed his thumb against Nori's arm. 

“What can we do?” he asked. 

“We were just about to discuss that when you... made your entrance.” Balin said, nodding to Bombur, who began scooping up what smelled like roasted barley water into mugs, passing them around. 

“I wish we had Lady Dis, _she_ might manage to reach him, make him see reason.” Balin said, “But we do not have her, and I do not think that any of us could... not even you, I'm sorry, lads.” Balin nodded to Fili and Kili, who looked like they were going to protest. 

“The best we might be able to do, for now, is to try to keep him out of the treasure chamber, and make sure none of us are _alone_ with him...” 

Dwalin accepted his mug of barley water with a nod of thanks, holding Nori close and leaning in as the Company quietly discussed what they could do to protect themselves from, and try to help, a King who had succumbed to the gold sickness. 

.


	33. the quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the quiet before the battle

.

There was a stillness, like a down feather hanging in the air, like a pebble sinking through honey. Nori could feel the beat of his heart, slow rushing in his ears, warm in his fingertips... slow, so slow...

“It's the quiet before battle.” Dwalin explained in a murmur, a rumble through the skin of Nori's back, pressed against the warrior's chest. He ran the comb and his fingers through Nori's hair again, and again, and he stilled. He held Nori against him, their naked bodies pressed together, just warmth, and skin, and closeness. Dain's army had arrived to help hold the Mountain, and things seemed to be escalating toward war with the Men and Elves, Balin growing more and more grim by the day... when word came that a vast army of Goblins and Orcs were sweeping down on them all, and they were hastily forming an alliance with the Men and Elves... and now it was just waiting, just a few hours until the battle would be joined. Just a few final hours, here, skin against skin with Dwalin. Nori did not know that he had closed his eyes until Dwalin was pressing the comb into his hand and he opened them to see.

“Would you braid my hair?” Dwalin asked, as Nori watched his fingers wrap around Dwalin's and the comb.

Dwalin wanted his braids? He didn't care if the Company knew?.. but the Company already knew, had assumed it since Lake-Town. Ever since Dwalin had tended his bruised eye in front of them, and then held him, there had been no question.

He turned and ran his fingers through Dwalin's wiry hair... it was not as though he hadn't designed braids for Dwalin in his head already.

“Would you braid mine?” he asked. If they were not all likely to survive, he could think of worse ways to go to the stone than beside Dwalin, with his braids in Dwalin's hair and Dwalin's in his so everyone could see that they were lovers.

Dwalin ran his fingers through Nori's hair, brought a bit of it to rub against his cheek, blue eyes soft, “Hair this beautiful deserves beautiful braids.” he said quietly, shaking his head, and Nori bit back all the words that would have begged Dwalin to give him a braid. He had _already_ been told no.

Dwalin squeezed Nori's hand, holding the comb, and Nori nodded. Seeing his braids in Dwalin's hair would be enough.

“Do you have any clasps?” He asked, and Dwalin nodded, leaning away for a moment to fish in the bedside drawer, coming up with a handful of cast silver hair clasps, undecorated save for a motif of axes.

None of them had spoken of it, but all the pretty things the Company had been wearing had made their way back into the treasure chamber, since Thorins... since. No one was wearing any gold or jewels, and they tried to keep away from the treasure chamber as much as possible, which was a relief to Nori. He'd even managed not to pick anything up the last time he'd returned something.

And that was something at least. If Nori were going out now, in the coming battle, he would be going out an honest Dwarf among honest Dwarves – not carrying anything that didn't belong to him.

He would never have pictured he would, before the quest.

Nori made two rope-coils to each side of Dwalin's mouth, leaning in to kiss, warm and slow with no heat in it. He wound the ropes around each other as he took them up the edges of his jaw, gathering hair as he went, staying as close to Dwalin as he could, his body sliding across Dwalin's warm skin. He joined the ropes from Dwalin's beard to his hair behind his ears, making as many ropes-coils as he could, gathering them into a a tight knot at the base of Dwalin's skull. The effect was deceptively plain, until it was examined closely, where the intricate interweaving of the ropes of hair was revealed, silver clasps peeking out here and there... it was like Dwalin, that way. Above all, it was a warrior's hairstyle, designed to keep his hair out of his way, and not give a handle to any enemy that might try to grab it.

Nori leaned against Dwalin's solid back, pressing kisses to his shoulders and falling back into the stillness... the slow beat of hearts and the rhythm of their breaths in the soft honey light of the lamp.

Dwalin slipped away from him, examined his braids in a simple polished-bronze mirror.

“...blazing forges...” he breathed, running fingers across the rope coils. “you did _this_ with _my_ hair...” He returned to the bed, kissed Nori, ran those wonderful big hands over Nori's body, his eyes warm.

Nori still had the comb in his hand, glanced from it to Dwalin, almost losing the fight to ask Dwalin again... Dwalin's hand rested on his, he shook his head gently.

“You should have beautiful braids.” he said. Nori nodded and didn't beg, didn't say that he would proudly wear the messiest, crookedest braid ever braided if it came from _Dwalin_. He'd already had to be told no twice, and he wouldn't let what might be their final moments alone together be of him begging like a needy _child_.

Dwalin kissed him, long and slow and deep, pressing him down onto the bed to lie over him, not sexual, just close... so close, like they could melt together and never be apart.

Dwalin rested his forehead against Nori's.

“We had _this_.” he whispered, holding Nori close. “No matter what happens... we had _this_.”

“mmm” Nori agreed. Dwalin was the best that Nori had ever had, and it might be worth whatever happened next to have gotten to have him... for however many slow heartbeats they had left.

.

Nori found Ori outside the barracks. Dwalin had wanted to have a few moments with Balin, and Nori wanted to have some time with Ori before the battle, too.

Kili was sitting with his back against the wall, Ori's head resting on his outstretched legs, while Fili knelt beside him, letting his younger brother redo his braids, eyes closed as he leaned toward Kili.

It was a private moment, tenderness between frightened young brothers, and Nori was turning to leave them in peace when Ori spotted him, holding both hands out to him and gesturing him over with a smile. Nori went to him, to sweet Ori who was too young for a battle like the one they were heading for – the kind that gave dreams like Dwalin's. He took Ori's hands and was pulled down with him, ending up laying on the stone floor with his head resting on Ori's belly, Ori's fingers combing through his still-unbraided hair – he hadn't had the heart to braid it himself, not yet.

If everything weren't so quiet, so still, Nori might have resisted... but it was comfortable, reassuring to hear Ori's breaths.

Time floated slow, slow... every breath drawing them closer to the battle. Fili's braids were completed and he rested his forehead against Kili's, hands resting on the backs of each other's necks as they just _breathed_ , afraid but brave.

The princes moved around Ori gradually, making themselves comfortable, and by the time Nori realized that there were more than two hands touching him he didn't mind, not with every whisperingly slow heartbeat the loudest thing in the world.

There were not many words. A murmur from Kili that Ori's hair was the softest, then Nori's, then Fili's, and last his own... a whispered childhood reminiscence from Fili that made Kili chuckle...

“He's been waiting for you.” Ori said, gently squeezing Nori's shoulder, “He wants to be your brother, but he doesn't know how. He's hurt you so much... he doesn't think he can ask it of you.”

“Dori?” Nori asked. He hadn't thought...

“I want to have _both_ my brothers, and I want you to have each other too.” Ori said, softly, sadly, and Fili gently soothed him... humming a tune that Nori almost thought he could remember from a warm sleepy memory of being cradled safe against a solid side that could have been his mother's, but might have been Dori's.

.

“Dori...” Nori tried, breaking off as his mother's eldest looked up at him from the armor he was obsessively polishing. He spoke with Dori, sometimes, but never without Ori between them, and now they were alone together in the armory. Gray eyes looked up at him, a little wary – beautiful Dori who never used to look at him without rage, never used to see him without trying to hurt him. He'd once hoped that Dori would have to acknowledge him at the end of the quest, and already he'd gotten more than that.

“Could... I...” Nori tried again, but he couldn't _ask_. Dori already didn't hate him, wasn't that enough? He could already spar with him, and talk with him, should he ask for more than that? Dori already let him be brother to Ori, and that was _so much more_ than Nori had ever hoped to be granted from his mother's eldest... but it was Ori who thought Dori wanted to be a brother to Nori, and he trusted Ori. Dori _had_ been angry when Thorin hit him, and he'd been afraid when he thought Nori was in danger in the bad rock...

Maybe it was the breathless stillness, the slow silence, that made it easier to hunker down in front of Dori so Nori was just a little lower than where he sat on the low bench, not looking down at him anymore, and put his comb into his mother's eldest's hand instead of _asking_ if they could braid each other's hair, instead of _asking_ if they could be brothers to each other.

Dori's mouth fell open, gray eyes going wide, looking from the comb to Nori's still-unbraided hair. It took forever-long heartbeats for Dori to drop the comb, his hands closing around Nori's, eyes falling shut, lashes shining with unfalling tears as he leaned forward to press his forehead to Nori's.

“I'm _sorry_.” Dori whispered, squeezing Nori's hands tight but not hurting him, not using the strength that could snap the bones in Nori's hands without hardly trying, “I hurt you so much, and I'm _so sorry_.” his voice was choked, aching, “I was so young, and so angry... I didn't _understand_ , but you were just a _child_. I drove you away. I hurt you and I let Thjofr hurt you and I...” Dori's voice broke and he drew back, moving one hand to Nori's shoulder and looking at Nori through diamond-glittering lashes – beautiful even when he was crying.

“You would let me be your _brother,_ after everything?” he asked.

Nori had never even hoped for it, not from the Dwarf who had told him again and again that he was not wanted, was not needed, and should stay away – hadn't wanted it from the Dwarf who hated him and tried to hurt him whenever they met. But he did remember Dori, the Dori he'd known as a young child who laughed and played with him before Thjofr took him, he'd wanted _that_ Dori back and never thought he would. The Dori who encouraged Ori to be a brother to him, who sparred honorably with him, who was angry when Nori was hurt and afraid when Nori was in danger... he could like that Dori. He could try to be a brother to _that_ Dori.

“If you want me.” he said. He _was_ still a thief, still the same Dwarf Dori had been willing to believe _any_ depravities of not a year ago in New Belegost, the same Dwarf Dori had tried to strip nameless and disown, and Dori _did_ call him by his name since Beorn's, but that was still a long ways from wanting to be a brother.

Dori's arms were around him, pulling him in to his chest and Nori _should not_ , he was not a _child_ to want... but Dori _smelled_ like a sleepy memory of safety and warmth and Nori was grabbing onto him and holding _tight_... and he _should not_ be whimpering when Dori was calling him brother and saying that _of course_ he wanted him, that any Dwarf who didn't want him was an unseeing fool.

And nonono, he _should not_ be _..._ no one _cared_ and no one wanted to _see_... but he _was_ crying, big ugly tears, but Dori wasn't sneering at him or sending him away, was rocking them gently back and forth, sobbing “my brother, my brother...” so maybe it was ok... if Dori was crying too...

Nori closed his eyes and held on to what he'd never _hoped_ he would have.

.

Dori's hair was soft, softer even than Ori's. Nori lost himself in the turns of Dori's favored braids until he fastened the last mithril lock in place with Dori's pretty silver hair clasps, Dori's braids all neat and perfect, just the way he liked them. Nori couldn't see any difference from the way Dori normally made them.

Dori, _his brother_ , examined them in two hand mirrors, nodding to Nori with an uncertain smile. He didn't seem to know any more than Nori how they were supposed to _be_ now. Dori put the mirrors down, picking the comb up.

“Could I braid yours?” he asked, and Nori nodded, moving from standing behind Dori on the bench to sitting in front of Dori on the ground.

Dori hm'd thoughtfully as he ran his fingers through Nori's hair, strong fingers massaging Nori's scalp as he turned his head back and forth, examining it thoroughly.

“Our mother gifted you generously.” Dori mused, “You always had _so much_... do you want your peaks or can I...” he asked.

“You can choose.” Nori said. He'd not thought to offer to change Dori's braids... they already suited him so well...

Dori made a pleased sound, confidently dividing his hair into three, the way he did for his peaks, but braiding it differently, tight and close to Nori's scalp, fingers firm but gentle.

“Our father, Kori the warrior, second Captain of Erebor's Army, wore seven-strand braids in his hair – as did Vidri, his father, and Bari, his father before him, and Yrsa his mother – brave warriors all.” Dori said, the gentle tugging on his hair and Dori's soft voice lulling him in the long heartbeats of the quiet. “You will go into battle with our fathers braids in your hair...”

Nori moved his head where Dori needed him to, strong confident fingers braiding his hair the way he hadn't had since he was a child on his mother's knee, and listened to Dori's quiet stories of his father, a brave warrior the Dragon took before he was born.

.

The Company drifted all together, when the battle was close, to the armory to dress themselves for battle.

Dwalin smiled at Nori's braids, running his fingers lightly over them, surprised when Nori said that Dori made them.

Dwalin stood silent in the stillness, slow slow heartbeat in Nori's fingers, as Nori fastened the buckles of his gleaming armor, checked the fit of everything one last time even though they had made sure it all fit perfectly _days_ before.

Nori let Dwalin settle his armor on him, their compromise between the lightness for speed Nori needed and the protection Dwalin wanted.

A heartbeat.

Making sure Ori was armed with hammer and sword, his face grim and determined.

A breath.

Checking over Dori's armor with Ori.

A heartbeat.

The weight of his mace settling into his hand, his knives ready, and his razor sharp.

A breath.

“Stay close.” Fili whispering to Kili.

“Stay close.” Oin to Gloin.

“Stay close.” Bifur and Bofur and Bombur, arms around each other's shoulders, Bofur laughing with fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me, I'll keep you safe.”

“Stay close.” Dori to Ori, pretty face set with determination, hefting his heavy flail and his sword.

A heartbeat.

Dwalin pulling Nori close and kissing him, soft soft press of lips and gentle tongue like no one else in the world, too far away with their armor between them.

A heartbeat.

“Stay close to me.” Dwalin whispered, nightmares behind his eyes and his warhammer in his hand, his axes on his back and Nori's braids in his hair.

A breath.

Thorin, gleaming in his armor with his axe and sword in his hands and a horrible fire in his eyes, hardly acknowledging them.

A heartbeat.

Running. The thudding of the stone under Nori's boots, the Company around him. Running out... out into the scent of blood and the screams of the dying.

.


	34. the battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Five Armies
> 
> This is a bad chapter.  
> Please be aware that this fic is now tagged for character death.  
> Also I remind you that this fic is tagged for graphic depictions of violence. People get hurt.  
> I am so, so sorry.

.

The battle was blood-bright and terrible, and the enemy was endless.

Like Azanulbizar done over again.

The Company was driven apart, and found one another again, fighting fierce as only Dwarves could. Dwalin fought beside Dwarves, and he fought beside Men, and he fought beside Elves, and Nori was always at his side. Nori was with him, in that space beside Dwalin that belonged to him and him only. Dwalin wore Nori's braids, his lover's endlessly clever hands had turned his ragged, meager hair into something beautiful, and Nori's beautiful hair had been braided up into three seven-strand braids joining into a woven tail at his neck – elegance that Dwalin could never have offered him.

The enemy was endless and they were often separated from the Company, but never from each other. Nori fought with brutal speed, his hazel eyes burning bright and curses snapping through his teeth, never once repeating himself in hours of battle – 'Warg-piss scum spawn', and 'Dragon-shit maggot', and 'cowardly beardless arse-face', and once 'whey-faced bird-warbling tree-fuckers' when a handful of Elves got in his way.

Nori was quick and vulgar and flashy, drawing the attention of enemies and laying their defenses wide open to Dwalin. He danced and dodged and made a target of himself and Dwalin crushed anyone who thought they could touch his lover, and Nori destroyed anyone who thought they could take Dwalin from behind.

Their eyes met in a brief moment of respite, both of them covered in sweat and blood, Nori having discarded a good half of his armor in favor of lightness and speed, the next wave of enemies howling down upon them. Nori smiled at him, a fierce flash of bloodied teeth and glowing eyes, swinging his mace back up into ready position and bouncing up light on his toes, ready to dance death on the Orcs and Goblins, though they were _all_ exhausted after so long.

If he had to die, there were worse ways to go than fighting beside Nori, his shield-brother and his lover and his friend – knowing that Nori would fight to his last breath to make sure he _didn't_ die – knowing that he would do the same.

And the Orcs were on them, and it was blood-bright and terrible.

.

There was a shout, there were _so many_ shouts – there was a scream, there were _so many_ screams – but Dwalin looked up to see Thorin fall, could see the spears and arrows piercing him.

And he was screaming as he tried to fight his way toward his King, to his cousin, to his shield-brother and his friend, and the thick press of Goblins was too much.

He saw Fili and Kili throw themselves between Thorin and Azog. He saw Filli wilt to the ground with a blow to the head. He saw Azog's Warg shake Kili by his leg, heard the snap of the bone between her teeth, her white muzzle stained red with his blood as she released him, flinging his limp body away.

He saw Ori standing in front of the Warg, his right arm hanging down useless and _wrong_ , a broken collarbone, swinging a hammer left handed as he screamed, and Dwalin _could not reach them_.

And Nori was gone. Nori was not there. Nori was not in his place by his side.

. .

Nori was tiring. He knew it. They all were. He'd dropped most of his armor, and the lost weight helped but he wasn't going to be _fast enough_ soon, and his speed was all he had, the only thing keeping him alive. His speed and Dwalin.

There was only so far he could push himself. He was already taking more hits, and each hit made it harder to dodge the next.

The pain he could handle, but the damage added up.

He wasn't like Dwalin. He couldn't take the same kind of damage and keep going. He was dancing on the edge of the rockslide and he was running out of rocks.

He was not going to last.

He was a _Dwarf,_ he would fight to his last breath, but that breath was coming sooner than later.

Nori looked up at Dwalin's roar, saw Thorin and the princes, saw Ori and the Warg and Azog, saw the pale Orc laughing at Ori, sweet brave broken Ori standing between him and the princes, Kili bleeding out from a horrifically broken leg and Fili lying pale and still with blood on his face.

Ori was going to die for them.

No.

Not if Nori could delay that.

He was reaching his end anyway. Best sell his life as dearly as possible, best go out protecting anyone he could as long as he could.

Nori saw paths and possibilities, it was what he did, and he stopped seeing how to drive enemies into Dwalin's hammer and saw instead how to draw Azog off.

He slid through the enemy ranks at a sprint, moved through the currents of them, bounded up onto the pile of two huge Wargs dead atop one another, so he was higher up.

“Azog!” He screamed, and he screamed the throat-tearing syllables of Orc-speak, and he hoped that the traveler who'd taught him the sounds had told him the truth, had taught him right.

…and they must have, because Azog was turning his Warg on him, eyes blazing, and Orcs were howling, all in earshot turning toward him.

The traveler had been right. It _did_ enrage them to hear their language in the mouth of an enemy.

Azog was spurring his Warg on toward Nori... and if the battle had been dancing on the edge of a rockslide, this was an avalanche bearing down on him.

There would be no escape.

He had his mace in his hand and his knife ready. He would fight the Warg as long as he could, and maybe when she took him he'd have a chance to shove his knife into her eye. Without the Warg, _someone_ might be able to defeat Azog.

And Dwalin was at his side, roaring his defiance with axes in his hands.

Dwalin. His Dwalin. The very, very best.

Together, then.

. .

Dwalin stood beside his clever Nori, his brilliant lover, who'd seen, fast as thought, how to get Azog away from Thorin and the princes and Ori.

Seen and done, just as fast. Not like Dwalin, trying and failing to bash his way through.

Dwalin stood beside Nori, and he was ready.

He was ready.

There were were so many worse ways to go, and _no one_ better to die beside.

The white Warg leapt toward them...

and an enormous brown bear slammed into her, rolling and fighting with a roar to shake the stones.

Beorn... how...?

Azog had rolled free, but Dain Ironfoot was charging down on his boar to take the pale Orc... and there were no enemies between Dwalin and Nori and Thorin and the princes and Ori. They did not even have to look at each other before they were running to them, razor in Nori's hand, slicing the poofy split sleeves off his tunic as he ran, tearing them into ropes.

“Stop the bleeding!” He ordered Dwalin, pointing at Kili, lying in the mud, bleeding out from his broken and mangled leg as he scrabbled desperately in the dirt and cried out for his Amad.

It was Azanulbizar, it was Azanulbizar done over again, where even the bravest scream in their own blood for their mothers... but Dwalin was given a task and he could do it, he could wrap his too-big hands around Kili's leg, above the horrible wound. He could use his killer's strength to squeeze hard enough that the horrible gushing of blood stilled and stopped. He could do this. He was strong enough for this.

Beorn's roar shook to the roots of the Mountain, and he was picking Thorin up to carry him away... and Dwalin could _see_ his injuries, the spears through him, the blood flowing sluggishly from his mouth... he met Nori's eye, and he could see that Nori knew too.

The sound that broke from Dwalin was too close to a wail. It was Azanulbizar over again, and he was not strong enough... not good enough... not _enough_ to save his King, not from Orcs and not from himself, either.

But he had a task. He had a task that he _could_ do, he could keep Kili from bleeding out... the young prince who had finally, mercifully, fainted... he could use the size and strength of his killer's hands to do this much.

. .

“Fili... Fili...” Ori had fallen to his knees when Azog turned from him, pale and shaking from the pain of his broken collarbone, he tried to pull himself toward the too-still prince.

“Stay still.” Nori ordered him, and Ori slumped, tears streaking his cheeks. Nori finished making his sleeves into rough rope. He wrapped part of one around Kili's leg, just above Dwalin's squeezing fingers, wrapped it as tight as he could, shoving a broken piece of spear handle through it to twist it tighter into a tourniquet.

“You speak Orc? What did you say to Azog?” Dwalin asked, his voice half-dazed.

“Only one phrase. I was told it means 'your mother fucks corpses'.” Nori said, patting Dwalin to let him know he was done, and the warrior let go, the nightmares close behind his eyes but still working, still fighting, still functioning.

“Help Ori.” Nori said, handing the rope from his second sleeve to Dwalin and going to Fili. The blond prince was still, horribly still, his face drenched with blood from a head wound, but he was _breathing._

Nori ran his hands over Fili's head as gently as possible, checking the extent of the damage.

There were no bone shards, at least, no exposed brain matter. His skull might be cracked, but it had not been broken... that might not mean much, though. There was no telling, with head wounds.

Ori screamed, and Nori flinched at the ragged sound. There was a _reason_ he'd given the job to Dwalin. He couldn't have hurt Ori, not even to put his collarbone back into its rightful place.

Nori, careful not to move him, felt gently down Fili's neck and spine... it did not seem to be broken, any of it... so there was that too.

Dwalin was done with Ori now, sitting the little scribe beside Kili, still fainted, and Nori had Dwalin help him carry Fili over to lay beside his brother.

The moment of breathing room Beorn had given them was closing, the defenders being pushed back toward them, the neverending waves of Goblins and Orcs sweeping closer.

“Give me a weapon.” Ori said, shaking and grim sitting between the princes with his right arm lashed to him to keep it from moving and injuring his collarbone more. Nori grabbed up a fallen spear and pressed it into his little brother's uninjured left hand, and Ori nodded to him, jaw set.

Dwalin gripped his axes, watching the approaching Orcs, his forearm bleeding slowly from a shallow gash – and Nori had a bit of torn sleeve left. He quickly untwisted it from its rope and wrapped it around Dwalin's arm, firm but hopefully not too tight.

“alright?” he asked, looking up into Dwalin's blue eyes, something unreadable in the way he was watching him.

Dwalin's fingers closed tight around Nori's forearm.

“I _love_ you.” He said, his voice rough, eyes piercing-bright and inescapable, “Marry me.”

...marry him? Marry Dwalin?

A battlefield marriage like a great warrior in legend and song? – Nevermind that most of those were tragedies, doomed love and overwhelming odds – but how was this, here, going to be _anything_ but a tragedy? How were Dwalin and Nori _ever_ going to be anything but a tragedy, a thief and a guard?

But here, now... both of them bloodied, their weapons in their hands, shield-brothers standing over the bodies of friend and foe, surrounded and hopeless – it was _just like_ the songs.

Nori _already_ intended to go out at Dwalin's side. He would go out with him as his husband, and not just as his lover.

He clasped Dwalin's forearm, facing him squarely with their arms clasped between them, his mace in his spare hand and an axe in Dwalin's.

“Witness!” he shouted, and “Witness!” Dwalin bellowed.

“My One.” Dwalin started the shortened version of the age-old vows, eyes not leaving Nori's.

“Mine Only.” Nori answered, and if they were going to live he would have wanted that, to have Dwalin, to have the _very best_ all his days.

“Brother of my Brothers.” Dwalin named him.

“Kin of my Kin.” Nori named him in turn, and they cracked foreheads together hard enough to sting, dropping their hands and squaring themselves to face the oncoming enemy.

“ _Mahaysith!”_ Ori shouted, announcing the marriage, and the call was echoed, shouted by every Dwarf who heard it, spreading the word, spreading the hope, proof of love in even the hardest of times, proof of the hardiness of Dwarves, and they _all_ fought harder for hearing it.

Dwalin roared his way back into the battle, and Nori drove himself as fast and as light as he could, keeping Dwalin, _his husband,_ safe for as long as he was able, driving the enemy into his axes to be killed, keeping the enemy off his back and knowing that Dwalin would do the same.

As the last of the shouts of their marriage echoed away it was replaced by a new call, a new shout of hope, this one echoed by Men and Elves also, and shrieked by the Orcs in terror.

“The Eagles! The Eagles are coming!”

and somewhere through the blur of battle he saw Dwalin's face, and he knew his own face matched the fierce smile he saw there.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> according to the Kuzdul dictionary, _mahaysith_ means 'marry'. It did not have a word for 'wedding' or 'marriage', so that's what we get.  
>  Dwarven Battlefield Marriages. I thought of it and I liked it so much I couldn't _not_ use it.
> 
> Now with marvelous art of the Battlefield Marriage by asparklethatisblue  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/image/61135841630


	35. forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> that Character Death tag?  
> yeah.  
> this chapter. 
> 
> I am so sorry.  
> If it's any consolation, I cried the whole time I was writing it.
> 
> also, that Canon Divergence tag starts to come into its own.

.

Trust a thief to come through battle unscathed.

Or maybe not unscathed, but without serious injury – and he'd managed to keep the worst of it off Dwalin too. Nori had a few broken fingers, a badly sprained knee, and a lot of bruises.

The Eagles had turned the tide of the battle, but it had still been a long and nasty fight after they showed up.

“I didn't even get any _scars_.” Nori complained as the businesslike Darrowdam finished sewing the last of Dwalin's cuts and began to bandage his arm.

“You're too quick and clever for it.” Dwalin smiled tiredly at his... at his _husband_ , blessed forges, how had he managed _that_ one? Nori smiled back but he was still tense, tight, it would be a while yet before his body realized the battle was over and he could rest.

Dwalin himself was not looking forward to _that_ bit, with Azanulbizar and today both clawing out from behind his eyes.

He did not want to meet his dreams.

“You need to _rest_.” The healer was done with Dwalin and tried to make Nori lay (or even just sit) on his cot, but Nori slid away from her hands, the cot between them in an instant. He knew how to move around an injury – Dwalin hadn't even realized Nori was hurt until there was not a single Orc left to fight and Nori was suddenly not putting any weight on his leg, and Dwalin had time to notice how oddly he'd been holding his knife, to avoid his broken fingers.

The healer huffed, and Dwalin didn't want her to have to fight Nori. The Maker _knew_ she had enough difficult patients – they were Dwarven warriors, after all – she didn't need to deal with an exhausted, suspicious thief still keyed up from battle, and Nori didn't need that either.

“Here.” Dwalin said, making room on his narrow cot and reaching for Nori. Nori darted around the healer and curled into Dwalin's chest, the both of them just barely fitting on the cot. Dwalin pulled Nori close. It was not comfortable, Dwalin was bruised too, but he nuzzled Nori's messy braids and kept him close.

His Nori. He'd not thought he'd get to have this again when they married.

The healer put her hands on her hips and gave them a _look_ , but then one corner of her mouth quirked up slightly, eyes going soft, and she left to go fuss over other patients with nothing but a warning to Dwalin not to pull his stitches.

Dwalin had a feeling she might have protested more if he and Nori hadn't just been wedded in battle. There had been stares and whispers when they'd supported each other and a few other Dwarves into the healer's encampment, and looks of awe.

It was ridiculous. They might have married _like_ warriors of legend and song, but that didn't mean they _were_.

“Is it true?” Dwalin looked over to see Dori, his arm in a sling and a bandage across his forehead – a facial scar, he'd have to beat the suitors away with a _stick_ now.

“I heard it was _you,_ the two of you, the marriage?” Dori asked, eyes wide.

“Aye.” Dwalin answered cautiously, as Nori nodded. He knew Nori and Dori made some sort of agreement before the battle, it was Dori's braids in Nori's hair, but still...

“Oh...” Dori said, smiling, placing his hand over his heart and bobbing slightly as if he were too stiff and sore to bow but desperately wanted to. “Brother.” he greeted Dwalin.

Ah... well... Dori was trying. He _was_ trying, and Dwalin knew what it was to have made a mistake.

“Brother.” Dwalin greeted. Nori wanted to be family to Dori, and for _him,_ Dwalin would try to forgive Dori for all the hurt he'd caused his husband.

Forgive, but not forget.

“He's awake, for the moment at least.” Balin said, stepping into the tent behind Dori, putting a hand on the pretty merchant's shoulder, looking at Dwalin, “He was asking for you. Will you go to him?.. and you too, Brother.” he said, nodding to Nori.

Nori looked up at Dwalin, worried copper-green and gold eyes.

“I'll go.” Dwalin said, and Nori nodded.

“I'll go with you.”

.

The scent of blood was thick in the tent, but Thorin smiled when he saw Dwalin, though he was gray-pale and had wet rattle under every shallow breath.

“Dwalin.” he greeted quietly, unmoving. The terrible fires of the gold-sickness were finally gone from his blue eyes, but so was most of the life, leaving them pale and flat.

Dwalin sat by his side, Nori close behind him, a hand resting on his shoulder for support. Dain Ironfoot and Balin stood near, quietly.

“The things I said to you... they were wrong. I have done _so much_ wrong...” Thorin broke off, his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress a cough, the pain etched into his face.

Dwalin gently took the cold hand of his King, his shield-brother, the little cousin he'd played with when they were both children, here in this very valley so long ago when the world was a kinder place.

“You were not yourself.” he said quietly, “I can forgive you for what you said.”

“...but not for what I _did_...” Thorin's mind could be sharp, and his pained smile was wry as he cut directly to the meaning.

“Not mine to forgive.” Dwalin said, and his voice was gruffer than it should be.

“I can forgive it.” Nori said softly.

Thorin looked up at him, “I betrayed your trust, as a member of my Company...” but Nori was shaking his head.

“You're a good Dwarf to follow.” he said, “I've forgiven worse, and it _wasn't_ your fault. I forgive you.”

Thorin's tired eyes held wonder as he looked up at Nori, and then back at Dwalin, breathing those horrible shallow rattling breaths.

“You could not have chosen a better Dwarf.” He said, squeezing weakly on Dwalin's hand, that small smile finding its way through his pain again, “He has been _good_ for you. They tell me you're married now?”

“Aye.” Dwalin said, agreeing with all of it, glancing up at Nori, his Nori.

“A battlefield marriage... like the songs...” Thorin squeezed Dwalin's hand again, “should have known... you always insisted on playing as Rekkr, when we were children.”

“I think I'm Thrasir, this time.” Dwalin mused, remembering the famous ballad, seeing Nori flush red at being cast the Rekkr to his Thrasir.

“And they say you insulted Azog in his own tongue?” Thorin asked.

Nori nodded, “Cursing... it's what I'm good for.”

Thorin let out a soft half-chuckle that turned into a breathless cough, his face tight with pain. Dwalin squeezed his hand.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, and his voice was definitely far more gruff than it should be, his face too wet as he reached to wipe the pink blood froth from Thorin's lips... pink froth – like being too big, and too strong, and too angry, and hitting and hitting and hitting until the other Dwarf didn't move anymore...

“Nothing... that time won't take care of.” Thorin answered weakly.

Oin pushed into the tent, and Thorin looked up at him, hope in his face, “My lads?” he asked, “My boys?”

Oin shook his head, “Fili does not wake, though he breathes strong... but there is no telling with a head wound. Kili had to be drugged to sleep for the pain. He stands a chance if we can keep infection away... he may even keep the leg, _if_ he lives.”

Nori had moved back, slipping out of the way and out of the tent.

Thorin closed his eyes, tears seeping from the corners to soak his beard. “Oh, my lads...” he moaned, “I have done _so much_ wrong... I led them into battle and I never told them... if they live, let them know I loved them? That I was _so proud_ of them?”

“I will.” Dwalin promised, Dain and Balin echoing.

“They are so young... I cannot throw Erebor on them...” Thorin said, opening his eyes to find Dain, “Dain, cousin...”

“Thorin...” Dain was shaking his head, “I have the Iron Hills, I can't...”

Thorin's breath was even shallower now, but he still managed a small smile for a tiny moment, “I ask only... only that you be a _friend_ to Erebor... a support.”

“I swear.” Dain said, replacing Dwalin at Thorin's side, taking his hand, Balin taking the other side.

“It must be Dis.” Thorin said, his eyes closing again, a soft shine of tears, “She would not have made these mistakes. She was _always_ better than me...”

“Thorin...” Balin started, but Thorin shook his head.

“You taught us _both,_ Balin, you know. She can do this. She already ran most of New Belegost.” there was that small sad smile through the pain again, “I hereby name Lady Dis, daughter of Thrain son of Thror, as my successor.... she will be the _finest_ King the Mountain has ever seen... and I pray the Maker I have not killed her sons, or she will bring me back to kill me again, as she promised.”

Thorin coughed again, wet and horrible, and Dwalin was backed up against the tent door, his eyes blurred and he couldn't...

“Bilbo! You're alive!” It was Bofur's voice outside, and Thorin stirred.

“The halfling lives?.. I would speak with him, while I can... if he will.”

Dwalin pushed out of the tent holding the door for Balin to go to Bilbo and not going back in, rubbing his burning eyes with palms.

...Thorin...

It was too much... too much...

but out on the edge of the encampment, there was Nori, stacking rocks on top of each other despite his exhaustion and his bruises and broken fingers and bad knee. Everything might be terrible, too terrible to bear, but he had Nori, Nori who had agreed to marry him, and he made his way to his husband.

He reached out to help steady Nori's rock pile, but Nori held out a hand to stop him and he drew back, allowed Nori to get the third rock to balance on his own.... He waited for Nori to step back from the pile before he reached for him, pulled him into his chest and buried his face in Nori's messy braids.

Dwalin knew he should not be holding him so tight, Nori was _bruised_ , but he couldn't seem to help his arms and Nori was holding him just as hard.

This... _this_ was what a battlefield marriage was about. It was hope, the mad hope that despite everything there _would_ be a future, and one worth sharing.

Dwalin did not know how the rest of the survivors could handle it, didn't know how he'd handled it after Azanulbizar... except that he'd had his shield-mates who, like Nori now, would hold him when he needed and never say anything if he happened to be soaking them with his tears, and he would do the same, and it helped.

Bilbo came out of Thorin's tent, stumbling blindly into Bofur's arms to sob shamelessly, the miner wrapping him up tight, and Balin followed him out, flanked by Dain Ironfoot and Oin.

Balin's voice was raw but clear as he called out, “So dies Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain... Long live Lady Dis, daughter of Thrain son of Thror, King of Erebor.”

and then he, too, was weeping.

.


	36. the king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King arrives in Erebor
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for insecurity and a bit of a panic attack

.

Lady Dis rode through the great gates of Erebor on horseback, surrounded by two dozen guards, somehow making riding the oversized beast look regal. 

Nori watched with the rest of the Company as she nodded deeply to the small crowd of cheering soldiers and workers, acknowledging them with gratitude, then left the stomping and snorting horses to stride up the steps to the palace to greet the waiting Company, her loyal guards ranging behind her. Nori wondered if it was just _that much_ easier to find companions to travel in a well-funded trip to a reclaimed kingdom, even if it was the middle of winter, than it was to find a Company to face a Dragon – or if Lady Dis just commanded _that much_ more loyalty. 

Her face was lined with grief and exhaustion, riding horses so long and so hard could not have been comfortable, but she showed none of the pain she must be in, and it _had_ been necessary to get her to Erebor as quickly as possible – Balin had explained it to Nori. 

The Company all bowed as she approached. The true greetings could happen later, _this_ was theatre, Balin had explained, to show the people that the Company were united in their support of Lady Dis as King. 

She greeted Kili first, lifted him from his bow and took him all in, from his illness-pale face to his crutches, to the leg that would _someday_ hold his weight again, but not yet. 

“...amad...” Kili whimpered, tears in his eyes, and she pulled him into her arms, held him tight. 

“Oh my Kili.” She whispered, “My brave boy.” she pressed a kiss to his forehead before releasing him and saying the prepared words, how she needed him by her side, working to restore their kingdom. Kili had been working with Bombur, neither of them able to walk far and mostly confined to the infirmary, but making their way here and there in Erebor with Bombur quietly teaching Kili how to judge the strength of architecture and how to tell what structures uncarved stone could support. Kili seemed to have a knack for it, with a little more training he would be very useful. 

Lady Dis greeted Fili next, raising his head and taking in the sight of his angry scars, the wide-pupiled eye that would never see again. She greeted him as her heir, spoke of how she needed him to help with the running of the Kingdom, and he _would_ be good at it. Nori had seen that. He was getting better now, but even when he was completely blinded by headaches at any light and had to spend his days lying still with his eyes covered, he still insisted on having reports read to him, and dictating responses, and Balin agreed that Fili seemed to have a mind for it. Even if Fili never regained the ability to focus on small things without pain, he would still make a fine heir and someday King. 

“Ori!” Lady Dis greeted, smiling at Ori, in his place by Fili's blind side. Nori had helped him learn to write left-handed while his right was out because of his collarbone – it wasn't so different from learning how to pick pockets left-handed the first time Nori broke his fingers. Ori had easily fallen into the task of reading and writing for Fili, and keeping him from running into things while he got used to seeing with only one eye. 

Nori could see the pride on Dori's face as Lady Dis named Ori a warrior-scribe and asked his continued support in that capacity, and Ori was flushing and nodding, Fili and Kili smiling at him. 

Everyone was greeted in turn. Balin to be the King's right hand, Oin to run the infirmary and begin to restore the medical college of Erebor. Bifur just wanted to make toys, Bombur she named the royal architect. When he was able, he would be in charge of keeping the stone of Erebor safe. With the range of his stone-sense, he would be very useful for that. 

“Bilbo Baggins.” She greeted, smiling down at the dazed-looking Hobbit, “You have given so much to our people, and you have stayed here to continue helping us when you might have left, though this has never been your fight. You have proven yourself a true friend of Dwarves. I would have friendship between our peoples, could I ask you to serve as the Shire's ambassador to Erebor?” 

Bilbo blinked quickly, then bowed deeply with a smile, “Gladly, Lady Dis.” Lady Dis turned her eyes to Bofur, close beside Bilbo, fingers twisted up in the edge of his scarf as he tried not to reach out and touch Bilbo while they were all on display.

“Bofur, could you work with Bilbo as Erebor's ambassador to the Shire?” she asked, and the miner's craggy face seemed like it might split with how wide he smiled, nodding and bowing wordlessly. She gave Bofur and Bilbo a small smile and moved on. 

Gloin she asked to travel to New Belegost, to support Vali, whom she'd left in charge, and to plan the return of the Dwarves of Erebor. 

“You know how to plan these things,” She said, “Bring my people _home.”_ and he agreed gladly. He'd been pining for Vali and Gimli since the Company left New Belegost. Gloin would be good for that, he was useful. 

“Your Majesty, I want nothing but a little shop and a quiet life.” Dori murmured, bowing to her as she reached him. 

“Of course, Master Dori.” She smiled gently, “I will have to find someone _else_ with your taste and delicacy to serve as my Master of Ceremonies.” 

Dori's eyes widened, gasping slightly at the _possibilities_ of the position she'd offered him, “Oh, Lady Dis...” He breathed, smiling as she moved on. Dori would be completely in his element in her court, keeping events running smoothly, making sure everything was as beautiful as he was. 

It was just Dwalin and Nori, now. Nori had made sure he was last, the closest to the doors so he could just slip away and not have to... but Balin had explained to him that this was _important_. If he didn't greet Lady Dis as King it would be seen as him opposing her rule... and with how influential he somehow was now after the quest, and the dragon, and the battle, and the wedding he'd not thought he would survive... and he didn't want to harm her. He _liked_ her. She'd been kind to _him,_ a thief in her house, when she didn't have to be... but... 

“Dwalin.” She greeted, “Will you serve as Captain of the guard, to protect my people and be sure they are _all_ treated fairly?” 

“I will, my King.” Dwalin answered firmly. He'd already been working on it, working with experienced guards and lawyers from the Iron Hills. He'd explained it to Nori, lying together in their bed all soft touches and warm skin, his eyes gentle as he kissed the thin manacle scars on Nori's wrists and explained that _no one_ would be given to the interrogators to be tortured in Erebor... that things would be _different._

He'd apologized to Nori for every time he'd ever been hurt by the guard, though _he'd_ never hurt Nori. Never. 

“It was _wrong_ , what we did to you.” he'd said, his heart in his eyes and his fingers on Nori's scars, “I won't let it happen again, not to _anyone,_ or we're no different from Goblins.” and Nori had kissed him and made love to him, because words would never be enough. 

Dwalin had a purpose. Dwalin was useful. 

And now there was only Nori left, and Dis was beginning to turn to him... and he was bowing the way he was supposed to, and he wasn't running away the way he wanted to, but what _could_ Lady Dis say to him? Everyone else was useful and he was just a nothing _thief_ , a thief who didn't want to be a thief but couldn't _stop_ , and there was a beautiful hairpin of rose-gold and chocolate pearls burning in the false lining of his boot. He was going to take it back, he _always_ took them back, but he couldn't _not_ take things... 

He'd tried, he'd tried so hard and he _couldn't_... he'd tried to be useful. He worked with the restoration crews, evaluating and bringing down the bad rock to make Erebor safe for the construction crews, and he was _good_ at it, but they didn't _need_ him, and there wouldn't even _be_ any more bad rock in another decade, if it lasted that long, and all his stone-sense would be useless. Other than a thief, he was nothing but Dwalin's husband and that was wonderful. He _loved_ him, loved him _so much,_ he was the _best_ , the very best in all the world, but what would he do when Dwalin was tired of him? When he finally asked too much of him? What would he do when Dwalin was tired of sleeping beside a Dwarf who woke screaming in the night? What would he do when Dwalin realized that Nori was a needy _child_ , too annoying, too useless? What would he do when the Company realized? What would he do when _Ori_ realized, and didn't want him anymore? Dori wouldn't have him anymore either, then... No one wanted him. No one would ever want him, there was no reason why Lady Dis should want him in the first place. He wasn't _useful._

Balin had tried to talk with him the way he had the rest of the Company, to write ideas of what he could do, to send a letter to the King as she made her way to Erebor... but he'd given up trying to corner him the second time Nori climbed out a window to escape. There was _nothing_ he could do for her, nothing he could give her. 

“Nori.” Lady Dis said warmly, and he looked up at her, her face so much like Thorin's but her blue eyes always kind and soft, as though she _liked_ him... but it wasn't... he wasn't... 

He dropped to one knee, eyes on her travel-worn boots. 

He was just a thief. Just a thief. He wasn't what they said in the songs of the battle (and there _were_ songs already, multiple songs), he was _not_ the brave, fierce, and tireless warrior who moved like smoke, compliment to the inexorable stone of Dwalin. He was just a thief, just a needy child without any honest skills and he couldn't... 

“Stand.” She ordered gently, hand on his shoulder, lifting him, and he could not disobey. Her eyes were smiling at him still, and she bowed to him. _She_ bowed to _him?_.. No. It didn't make _sense_. The King should bow to _no one_. 

“Nori son of Kori, I owe you my _life._ Without your advice on their rounds, I do not think my guards would have caught the assassin who came for me in the night. Can I ask you to be the King's Eye? Can I ask you to keep my family safe, with the skills only you have?” 

She'd... someone had tried to _kill her?_ No... and if Fili and Kili were also in danger... Nori could _see_ the map of the palace of Erebor, every entrance and exit, every possible path in or out, and he could _see_ where the guards had to be to block them, he could... 

He could _do_ this. 

“I will do my best, Lady Dis.” he said quietly. 

“Then I am safe.” She smiled, and passed into the privacy of the palace, where Bilbo and Dori had worked hard to make everything cozy, where the true greetings happened, Lady Dis laughing as Fili and Kili clung tight to her and babbled everything she'd missed. In the palace, where there was hot food and warm baths for the tired travelers, and everyone laughing and talking and a few of the Company clapping Nori on the back and chiding him jokingly for making them look bad in comparison.

Dwalin put an arm around him, “My husband is the King's Eye.” He smiled proudly, “That is a lot of responsibility, a lot of _trust_.” 

Nori turned the lump of chalk he carried in his pocket. 

“...I have to set up the guard rounds.” he said. With the parts of the palace currently in use, he could have it covered with only a few guards... leaving most of them free to rest. He caught the eye of Lady Dis' lead guard as he looked for a good surface to draw a map on. 

Dwalin laughed and let him go, but not before bending him over backward to kiss him long and soft and deep to a few catcalls from the celebrating Company, blue eyes open and smiling into his.

and Nori was happy. 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nori doesn't usually feel _that_ insecure about himself and his place in Erebor and the Company, but Dis' arrival was very stressful and brought it all out.


	37. Epilogue - different in Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the King's Eye takes his job seriously. 
> 
> Nori as seen from another perspective.

.

Anar, gentledwarf tavernkeep, purveyor of information and occasional purchaser of questionably acquired goods, nodded to himself as he looked over the spot he'd found. 

It should do _nicely_ , good and quiet, and right next to the bad rock in case any of his patrons had to disappear themselves... it should work _very_ nicely, he could set himself up in Erebor just the way he'd been in New Belegost. He'd timed his arrival just right, as far as he was concerned. Enough people had returned to the Mountain that he would have business, and few enough that he could get started without too much competition. He looked up at a quiet whistle, someone politely announcing their approach, and smiled. 

One of his _very favorite_ thieves came scampering over the bad rock, hair all up in tall peaks and his hand darting out to feel out the rock as he went, utterly confident on even the most unstable rock. 

Anar sat himself down on a comfortable rock. “Shouldn't be surprised you beat me here.” He said, “you always were the best.” and wasn't that the truth. Thjofr had been a hard Dwarf, but he'd made something extraordinary out of the lad. Anar was glad to see him alive, he'd assumed he'd disappeared just like Thjofr and so many thieves, when he was just _gone_ from New Belegost. 

“Anar.” the thief greeted, sitting himself near Anar but out of easy touching range, pulling a small flask from somewhere unseen in his clothes, taking the first sip before passing it over. 

“Prettyfingers.” he greeted in turn, accepting the flask, oooh, a mead-jack, sweet and strong. He must have stolen it from somewhere nice. The thief raised a braided eyebrow at which name Anar had chosen – he had _so many_ , and at the same time none at all. He was of a generation of thieves that guarded their use-name as carefully as their true-name – not even the guard had ever gotten it out of him. Even Thjofr hadn't called him by a name, he was 'lad' when Thjofr was in a good mood and 'useless child' snarled like a curse when he wasn't. The thief was quickfingers and lightfingers and stickyfingers, cleverhands and fastknives and lockpick, foulmouth and bighair and mapmaker and pathfinder, stonedancer and quietboots and sneakyfeet and rocklizard and mountaingoat. He was prettyfingers when Anar was amenable should the thief be looking for a tumble. 

The thief shook his head slightly as he accepted the flask back, setting it carefully beside him. A shame, that, a tumble with the thief was something special – not that he went looking for one often, or often went to any particular Dwarf for it. Very cautious, that one. 

“So what brings you to my fine establishment.” Anar asked, gesturing around at where his small and quiet and oh-so-very-legal tavern was going to be. 

“I wouldn't set it up here.” the thief shook his head, gesturing to the bad rock, “This is coming down next week.” 

“You see the future now?” Anar asked – not that he would question this particular thief's assessment of bad rock. He'd lived in some of the hairiest bits of the bad rock in New Belegost and _lived_. 

“I talk to the restoration crews.” he answered, stretching himself out comfortably, and Anar noticed that his top braid was different now, seven strand instead of three, “It's going to be _different_ here. There won't _be_ any bad rock left in another five, six years.” 

No more bad rock? “That can't be good for your line of work.” Anar commented. It wouldn't be good for anyone living on the far side of the law, and not too nice for those like Anar who straddled the line. The thief gave a little half-shrug and an almost smile. 

“It's _different_ in Erebor.” He said... and Anar noticed his hair clasps were gold now instead of silver – he was doing _well_ here, then, and he _did_ look it, his face not so sharp anymore, looking less like Thjofr, lacking some of that desperation that always seemed to drive him, replaced with something steadier. 

Anar sighed... looking around his chosen spot sadly. It would have been so _nice_. 

“You'll land on your feet.” the thief assured him, “the Chert district, maybe?” he suggested, “it's shaping up pretty.” he took another sip from the flask and handed it back to Anar. 

“You didn't find me to give me business advice.” Anar said, sipping the liquor. The thief was in a generous mood, sharing drink this fine. The thief nodded. 

“You never sold me bad information, and you never turned me in.” The thief said, bright eyes a challenge. 

“I could say the same.” Anar answered. He was always careful enough he wasn't caught, but it was always nice to work with someone who wouldn't send the guard sniffing around if they were caught. 

“I need someone I can trust to spread a quiet word for me.” the thief said, watching him carefully, “I can make it worth your while.” 

Now _that_ was different. “You're staking a claim somewhere?” Anar asked, the thief had always worked _so quietly_ before. Running a claim had never been his style. 

“You could say that.” The thief said, that almost-smile playing with the corners of his lips, “I claim Erebor.” 

...the thief had gone mad. 

Bit of a shame, with how brilliant he'd been, but the brightest burning always go out first... 

“Oh?” Anar said, taking one final sip before handing the flask back. The thief capped it and hid it back somewhere in his clothes. 

“I don't care what goes on, really, as long as it's quiet... but the royal family and the Company of Thorin are off limits.” The thief's hazel eyes were bright and hard now, something fierce behind them, “The instant someone _breathes_ a plan to harm them... I know the names of every stone in this Mountain, and I will help Dwalin son of Fundin hunt them down.” 

Maker's hammers, not mad, _turned._ The best thief New Belegost ever produced had _turned_. What could have possibly _done_ that to him? He was famous for resisting breaking. His reputation was damn close to perfect. 

...no one was safe, now, with the things the thief knew. Anar stood, took a few steps back. 

“I have no fight with you.” The thief said gently, that little almost-smile suddenly more like a predator toying with his prey than an old friend. He worked with...

“You work with the _killer_ now?” Anar could not fathom it. 

“I _married_ him.” The thief answered. 

Why would anyone _do_ that? He couldn't _see_ any injuries on the thief, but if he was with Dwalin? The killer? He must have them. Everyone knew Dwalin couldn't control his strength, wouldn't know kindness if it dropped an anvil on his skull, and anyone who'd tumbled the thief knew he preferred a gentle hand. 

“Why?” Anar's mind was too jumbled for a more coherent response. The world had turned upside down. 

“Things are different in Erebor, Anar.” The thief said, “I just need you to spread a quiet word for me, can you?” 

but wait wait wait... he hadn't been paying attention much, but there was a song they sang around the campfires on the trek to the Mountain, about the Battle – Dwalin had been married in battle to... 

...a lean Dwarf dancing like smoke, no enemy could touch him, with curses in his mouth and his beautiful red-brown hair all in seven-strand braids...

He fit the description, and the timing of when he disappeared was right. The thief had joined the King's mad quest, and made a hero of himself, and married the killer, and turned. 

“...fuck me with an Orc spear... you're _Nori_.” Anar gasped, and the thief, Nori, smiled, a hard flash of teeth. 

Anar sat down. 

The sad-eyed little lad who'd silently tagged everywhere behind Thjofr, who'd worked so hard and so careful to make himself into a thief with a reputation, was Nori the warrior? 

Nori was pressing the flask into his hand again, and Anar took it gratefully. He was too old for this. Dwarves should stay who they _were_ and not go changing. 

Nori the warrior, who was now the King's Eye, tasked by King Dis with keeping the royal family safe... and for that he had come to Anar. 

“We never played each other false, Anar.” the thief was saying, “I don't care what goes on, as long as it's quiet and nobody gets greedy. I don't care about your business. I don't care. I just need you to spread the word that the royal family and the Company are off limits, and put a word in my ear if anyone's planning anything.” 

“And if I won't?” Anar asked... but Nori was rich now, and he said he'd make it worth his time... and he'd _always_ been good to work with... 

“I find someone who will.” the thief said, shrugging slightly, but there was a coldness to the edge of his tone that brought to mind the whispers... 

People Nori didn't like didn't tend to _live_. 

Coincidence, it could be, the bad rock was dangerous, but it might _not_ be. Thjofr threw him to the guard to cover his own escape one too many times, and Thjofr disappeared... whispers, whispers that his lad had had a thing to do with it, that the lad never spoke against. Dwarves who betrayed him captured by the guard, bribing out only to go missing in the bad rock, their favorite hide-outs collapsed. No proof that it was the thief, no proof that it _wasn't_. He was _so good_ at judging the rock, who's to say he couldn't have? 

“I know the names of every stone in this Mountain” he'd said, and Maker's hammers, he probably did. If he came after someone, there would be _nowhere_ safe for them... and with Dwalin at his side... 

Whispers, whispers when the thieves of Nori's generation and younger were _very_ deep in their cups that it wasn't _fair_ , the stone loving Nori best. That even if Nori had nothing to do with it, the stone would _get_ you if you crossed him. Hisses from their companions to _shut up,_ eyes darting as if the stone would hear them. Anar wasn't one to hold with superstition, but if those who'd lived their whole lives in the bad rock believed it so fiercely... 

and it wasn't _much_ the thief was asking of Anar, and he'd always been good to work with if you played him honest. 

Anar finished off the last of the sweet mead-jack and handed the empty flask back. Nori took it without comment, sitting across from him in the rocks, waiting for his answer. 

“I think I could do it. I don't have a tavern yet, of course, but as soon as I do...” Anar offered, and Nori smiled a smile that did not reassure, too many sharp teeth in it... and they began to haggle the price of the service. 

“It's _different_ here, Anar.” Nori told him when they were done, the first payment tucked cozy into Anar's jacket, a lovely little taste of gold that would help him get his tavern set up. “It won't be so be easy for thieves... it's not like New Belegost. There _is_ enough work here for anyone who wants it... I'd even help anyone who wants to go honest... _good_ work, that suits their skills.” 

Nori the warrior, once the finest thief of New Belegost and now the King's Eye, tapped his fist to the stone, placed his hand over the spot, and went dancing over the bad rock like it was the safest place in the world. 

Different in Erebor. 

It certainly _was._

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who has read and commented as I wrote. I couldn't have done it without you. You are beautiful people and your support is what keeps me writing. 
> 
> Please feel free to chat me up in the comments or on Tumblr (thorinsmut.tumblr.com), I'm kind of shy, but I love talking to people. 
> 
> I still have a few bits of headcanon for this 'verse to unleash, so if you want to learn whatever happened to Thjofr... or if you have any other things you want to learn about, please let me know and I might write them up. There will probably be an extras fic posted tomorrow with the first of the side stories. 
> 
> Thank you again everyone. I love you all so much.   
> <3, TS

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Flirt with disaster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/968312) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)
  * [Well Matched](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3499340) by [Thorinsmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut)




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